The Lion's heir
by Deus Swiftblade
Summary: What if Jaime never spoke of Tysha to Tywin? What if she had gotten pregnant by Tyrion and gave birth to his son? Enter Tytos, named for his great-grandfather, but not so weak-willed, and who loves his father more then the family name. The Game has changed with his coming. The question is do the players realize it? Two-shot
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

The Lion's heir

"Talking"

" _Thinking"_

 **Tywin**

(Location: Red Keep)

He sat at his desk, writing away on a letter, when the dwarf walked in and sat down in the chair opposite of him. His disfigurement was plain to see. He ignored him and continued scratching words down on his letter. The silence dragged on and on, yet he still kept writing. "The chain looks good on you," Tyrion finally said, breaking the silence. He could never hold his tongue for long. "Almost as good as it looked on me."

"Is it wise for you to be out of your sickbed?" he asked, still writing.

"I am sick of my sickbed." As Tywin dipped his quill in ink, the dwarf looked around the room exaggeratedly. "Such pleasant chambers you have. Would you believe it, while I was dying, someone moved me to a dark little cell in Meagor's?"

He was well aware. "The Red Keep is overcrowded with wedding guests. Once they depart, we will find you more suitable accommodations." He continued writing.

"I rather liked _these_ accommodations. Have you set a date for this great wedding?"

"Joffrey and Margaery shall marry on the first day of the new year, which as it happens is also the first day of the new century. The ceremony will herald the dawn of a new era." What he had written was all there. The ink had to be dried.

"So I take it is safe to say that you are enjoying your new position?"

"What do you want, Tyrion?" He would not be here if he didn't want something. He was what he was after all. The ink was now dried and he started folding the letter.

"Why does everyone assume that I want something?" he asked while his father poured wax onto the letter and then stamped the seal of the Hand onto it. "Can't I visit with my beloved father?" His gaze hardened somewhat but nothing that could intimidate him. "My beloved father, who somehow forgot to visit his son after he fell on the battlefield," he added.

"Maester Pycelle assured me your wounds were not fatal." That brought Tywin's attention back to the nose. "What madness possessed you?" he asked once and only once.

"The foe was at the gates with a battering ram. If Jaime had led the sortie, you'd call it valor."

"Jaime would never be so foolish as to remove his helm in battle."

"And while I was doing that, your grandson, the _King_ , quivered in fear behind the walls."

"What do you want, Tyrion?"

His disfigured face morphed into a scowl. It would've terrified a weaker man but Tywin was anything but weak. "A little bloody gratitude would be a start."

"Mummers, jugglers, singers, and monkeys require applause. So did Aerys. You are a Lannister. You did as you were commanded, and I am sure it was to the best of your ability."

"That _part_ I played? I saved your bloody city, it seems to me."

"Most people seem to feel that it was my attack on Lord Stannis's flank that turned the tide of battle," he replied coolly. "Lords Tyrell, Rowan, Redwyne, and Tarly fought nobly as well as I'm told it was your sister Cersei who set the pyromancers to making the wildfire that destroyed the Baratheon fleet."

"While all I did was get my nosehairs trimmed, is that it?" The bitterness was obvious in his voice.

"Your chain was a clever stroke, and crucial to our victory. Is that what you wanted to hear? Did you think I demanded a garland of roses every time I suffered a wound on a battlefield, hm? Now tell me what you want?" But before the dwarf could even open his mouth, he raised his hand commandingly. "Stop, do not bother. I know what you want. You want Casterly Rock. You will never have it.

"You are an ill-made, devious, disobedient, spiteful little creature full of envy, lust, and low cunning. Men's laws give you the right to bear my name and display my colors, since I cannot prove that you are not mine. To teach me humility, the gods have condemned me to watch you waddle about wearing that proud lion that was my father's sigil and his father's before him. But neither gods nor men shall ever compel me to let you turn Casterly Rock into your whorehouse. Go back to your bed, Tyrion." He turned his attention to the work that lay before him on the desk. The dwarf did not move from his seat. "Go, now."

He did not move. The look on his face did not know whether he should start crying or shouting. But when he finally spoke, he did not do either. "I was never going to ask about _my_ rights to Casterly Rock. Despite what you might think of me, I am not a fool, Father."

"Then who were you going to ask for?"

"Tytos," he answered.

Tywin did something he rarely did before any of his children; he paused in what he was doing. "Your son," he said. The son no one talked about in front of him.

"Yes, my son," the dwarf answered. "He is a Lannister."

"He is a child of a lowborn girl."

"He is my child and my wife's."

"I am aware." The dwarf had hidden his wife away for the better part of a year before she discovered. When she was found out, she was already heavy with child. She died giving birth to that child. It was something that he had seen before. "So, you would have your son inherit what is rightfully your brother's?"

"The knights of the Kingsguard are forbidden to marry, to father children, and to hold land, you know that as well as I. The day Jaime put on that white cloak, he gave up his claim to Casterly Rock, but never once have you acknowledged it, just like how you have never acknowledged Tytos. It's past time. What I want is for you to stand up before the realm and proclaim that he is your grandson and lawful heir."

Tywin could see the hope in Tyrion's eyes as he spoke. He began to think on the matter. Unlike his father, Tytos had never once shamed the family name. He was not a knight but that could easily be fixed as it was ignored. And despite what others might have said, those who knew him claimed that after he pulled the dwarf out of the battle, he returned and held the line. Already he had heard singers praising his name, saying that he had roared with the might of a lion in his voice. While that was utter foolishness, he was everything that his father was not.

"Very well, he shall become my heir," he finally said, making his choice.

The dwarf's eyes widened in surprised as he heard those words. Then he shut them for a moment. When they opened again, they were collected. "Thank you, Father." He got down from the chair he sat in. "I will go inform Tytos of this."

"Do as you wish." He had a kingdom to run.

 **Cersei**

(Location: Red Keep)

She smirked as she watched the little bastard toddle into the room with the large book barely grasped in his hands. "You're later," Father said shortly from where he sat at the table.

"What's she doing here?" he asked in return, looking at her while walking to the table.

"Our business concerns her too. Sit."

He did as he was commanded. Once he sat down, he opened the book before him. "You'll be pleased to learn that after one conversation with Olenna Tyrell, I've saved the crown hundreds of thousands on this wedding," he remarked like what he had done mattered. He had only been given the title of Master of Coin after Baelish had left for the Eyrie to seduce Lysa Arryn. Once he was back, he would have his job back.

"Never mind that now," Father told him. "We have something important to discuss."

"I'm Master of Coin. Saving money is important." Cersei snorted softly at that, making him turn his disfigured head to her. "Stop that. You're making me uncomfortable."

" _Good,"_ she thought silently. She enjoyed doing that to him.

"Your sister has learned that your new friends, the Tyrells, are plotting to marry Sansa Stark to Willas."

He rubbed the stump that used to be his nose. Every time she saw it, Cersei wished that he could've died out there like he was supposed to. "She's a beautiful girl and I do not believe that Willas Tyrell is anything like his younger brother. What exactly is the problem?"

She would've laughed if their father wasn't there. He was the one who answered. "I bring them into the royal fold and this is how they repay me, by trying to steal the key to the North out from under me."

"Sansa is the key to the North?" he repeated, making it sound like something faintly amusing. "I seem to remember that she has an older brother."

"That older brother of hers threw away his potential Frey wife for Gawen Westerling's eldest daughter, losing House Frey in the process."

The surprise on his face was enough to make Cersei smirk a little wider. It was not often she got to see him lost for words. "I am surprised," he admitted once he found his tongue again. "I thought Robb Stark had better sense."

"He is a boy of sixteen," replied Father. "At that age, sense weighs for little, against lust and love and honor. What's more, the Karstarks have marched home. The Young Wolf has lost half of his army. His days are numbered. Theon Greyjoy murdered both his brothers. That makes Sansa the heir to Winterfell and I am not about to hand her over to the Tyrells."

"The Tyrell army is helping to win this war," Tyrion remarked casually. "Do you really think it's wise to refuse them?"

"There's nothing to refuse. This is a plot. Plots are not public knowledge and the Tyrells won't carry this one out until after Joffrey's wedding." He shared a look with both him and Cersei. "We need to act first and kill this union in this crib."

"And how do we do that?"

"We find Sansa Stark a different husband."

"Wonderful."

"Yes, it is," Cersei agreed looking at her dwarf of a little brother, the victorious smirk on her lips. She was proud of what came next as it was her idea to begin with.

He saw the smirk and then looked at their father's impassive face. She could've laughed as realization dawned on his face. "You can't mean it," he practically whispered.

"I can and I do," Father replied.

"Joffrey has made this poor girl's life miserable since the day he took her father's head. Now she's finally free of him and you give her to me? That's cruel, even for you."

"Do you intend on mistreating her?" he asked before the little monster could continue. "The girl's happiness is none of my concern, nor should it be yours."

"She's a child."

"She's flowered, I assure you," Cersei told him, loving the fact that they were leaving him with no other option. "She and I have discussed it at length."

"There, you see?" Father said, clearly not expecting an answer. "You will wed, bed her, and—"

"No, I will not!" Tyrion replied. He did not shout but his voice did rise. "I am wedded. I will not take another. I am not a Targaryen."

"Your wife has been dead for years now."

"So has yours and we've yet to see a new mother at the Rock," he retorted as he gestured sharply between him and Cersei.

Even though she was enjoying this, the mention of that little whore infuriated her. At some point, Tyrion hid her in the Rock itself, right under Father's nose. They didn't find her until she had given birth, which she attributed to Father getting old. If she had been the Lady of the Rock, there was no doubt that she would've found the slut sooner.

Father's face hardened. "If you will not marry her, another Lannister will marry her."

"On that, we can agree. I suggest my son." Cersei frowned at those words. If it had been her choice, she would've had that bastard strangled in his crib. Instead, he had been allowed to prance around disgracing the family. What was even more dumbfounding was the fact that Father had proclaimed him his hair.

"I have already proclaimed him my heir and you wish to give him more?"

"It's because he's your heir that he should marry Sansa. She is the key to the North, after all. Their firstborn son would get Casterly Rock, their second Winterfell. And Lady Sansa deserves more than a disfigured dwarf for a husband."

"Instead, you wish her to have a disfigured bastard for one?" Cersei asked him with poisonous sweetness.

"Enough," Father said, silencing the two of them. "…Very well, Tytos shall marry Sansa." He turned his head to her. "And you shall marry Willas Tyrell."

She froze with her victory still on her lips. She stared at her lord father. "I will not," she said.

"He's the heir to Highgarden. Tyrion's son will secure the North and you will secure the Reach."

"No, I won't do it."

"Yes, you will. You're still fertile. You need to marry again and breed."

The mere fact that he spoke to her like that enraged her. "I am Queen Regent! Not some broodmare—!"

"You're my daughter!" he shouted, one of the few times he had done so to her. She flinched away from it, shock evident on her face. She had never seen him look so angry. "You will do as I command and you will marry Willas Tyrell." She started shaking her head. "And put an end to the disgusting rumors about you, once and for all."

"Father, don't me do it again, please," she began to beg him.

"Not another word," he told her as he stood up. He looked at them both. "My children," he said with no small amount of disgust in his voice. He walked away.

Cersei sat there, trying to understand what had just happened. What was supposed to happen was that Tyrion was to marry Sansa as a "reward." Instead, his bastard son was getting her and she would end going to Highgarden, away from Jaime. This wasn't supposed to happen. She turned her head to look at Tyrion. "I supposed you're enjoying this, aren't you?" she spat at him. He did not say anything. He simply left.

 **Sansa**

(Location: Red Keep)

The first time she had seen Tytos Lannister was when he accompanied King Robert to Winterfell. She had heard rumors that he was the Imp's bastard son, much like Jon had been Father's. She thought nothing of him really, believing him to be much less handsome then the prince. Now that prince was the king, he was heir to the Westerlands, and she was now his husband.

That morning, she had thought that she was just getting a new dress, only to have the lovely thought ruined by Queen Cersei. She had considered fleeing but stopped when she was threatened with being dragged to the Great Sept. She promised herself that she would not cry and she could have a small moment of pride when she did not.

The feast was small compared to the few she had been to. When they had come in, the Tyrells ignored her. The only one who had looked upon her was Margaery with a sad expression. Her new husband sat by her side and did not say anything, not to her at the least. He ate little and she ate none at all. All she saw were the Tryells on one side and the royal family on the other before the wedding table.

As the wedding feast went on with the songs playing, the people dancing and laughing, she found herself wanting to be alone. She stood up from the table and walked away. Her feet wanted to take her to the godswood but her head knew she would not make that far. There was a balcony that looked out to the city, where she would be able to see it without smelling it.

But as she walked up the steps and into the balcony's alcove, she found herself alone and the king made his appearance. "Congratulations, my lady," he said into her ear as he took her in hand. From behind him were two of the Kingsguard, Ser Meryn and Ser Boros.

"Thank you, your Grace," she replied, remembering her courtesies.

He turned her around and began leading her back to the feast. "You've done it. You married a Lannister. Soon, you'll have a Lannister baby. It's a dream come true for you, isn't it? What a glorious day."

It was not a dream anymore, more like a nightmare. But she wasn't going to let him know that. "Yes, your Grace."

He laughed a little laugh as he let go of her arm. "I supposed it doesn't really matter which Lannister puts the baby into you. Maybe I'll pay you a visit tonight? How'd you like that?" Her eyes flickered away from him. While she did not say anything aloud, she was screaming inwardly. "You wouldn't?" he asked her, somehow seeing that her horror. "That's alright; Ser Meryn and Ser Boros will hold you down."

Suddenly, there was a powerful hand gripping the king's shoulder, turning his arrogant sneer into a look of pain. "Are you threatening my newly-wedded wife?" the voice of Tytos Lannister asked him quietly.

Sansa was relieved to see her new husband standing behind Joffrey. Even though he was younger, he was just as tall as his cousin. Unlike the other Lannisters she had seen, who preferred their hair long, his was cut close, very close, to his head. When one looked at his face, the first thing they would've noticed was the black eyepatch around his left eye.

The king continued to be held there by that grip, letting out small whimpers of pain. It was only when the two Kingsguard present there took a step forward that Tytos released his grip. It took him only a moment to regain his sneer. "Of course not, I was merely offering her my congratulations."

"And I supposed you offer your congratulations much like your father, only more violent," his cousin replied. The king turned to look at him and Sansa knew he was angry. But her husband did not flinch. "Go away, Joffrey. You have a betrothed, go to her."

For a moment, it looked like he would do just that. He slipped past his cousin, but only to go to the balcony above the feast. He clapped his hands like a child who had just been given a new toy. "Time for the bedding ceremony!" he declared loudly. The men cheered loudly to that and the women giggled.

Sansa was filled with horror at his words. But then Tytos spoke. "There will be no bedding ceremony."

The king turned to look at him. "There will be if I _command_ it."

"…Very well. I shall let only one piece of clothing be taken off of me." She only saw the right side of him as he reached up and took off his eyepatch. The music stopped as did the men who had started making their way to the steps. The ladies who looked up him gasped in horror and fright, some of the weaker ones fainting to the floor.

Her husband took her by the hand and led her gently but firmly back down to their table. "Father, make sure she eats something before you escort her up to my rooms," he told Lord Tyrion. Then he walked away, his eyepatch still gripped in his left hand. Men and women part before him as he walked out of the hall.

Sansa found herself sitting down at the table again. Her husband wanted her to eat but she was not hungry. If she did not eat anything, he would know. That would only make the night worse. She forced herself to eat some pieces of the meat before her. When she swallowed the last piece, Lord Tyrion was already by the table.

She stood up and took his hand. She knew all eyes were following her as they left the hall, eyes filled with lust or disgust or pity or outright hatred. The music grew fainter as the two of them left the hall. Neither of them said a word as they walked through the corridors. But as the door to their bedchambers came into sight, the fear gripped her again.

"You need not fear Tytos, my lady," Lord Tyrion told her. "He is nothing like Joffrey, I can promise you that. I should know."

"Of course, my lord," she told him.

He looked back at her. "You doubt me. No, there's no need for you to deny it. You should know that my father had originally planned for you to marry me but I was able to convince him as that his heir, Tytos should marry you instead. Believe me when I tell you this, Lady Sansa: I have made many questionable choices in my life and even bad ones too. My son is neither of those things."

They came to the door and he opened it for her. She stepped through and into the room, hearing the door close behind her. It was quiet but to her, it was as loud as the bells in the city. The room was luxurious but not grandiose in its luxury. The most dominating item in the room was the wedding bed.

But her husband was not waiting there for her. Instead, he was sitting at the small desk nearby, the scratching of a quill surrounding him. His doublet lay on the back of the chair but he still wore his tunic. His patch sat on the desk to his left. "I know you are there, my lady," he said without looking up or turning his head.

"What are you writing, my lord?" she asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

"A letter to your brother and mother, telling them what has happened."

She was surprised to hear that and she was glad he could not see her face. "But why?" she asked. "They're traitors."

"That doesn't excuse the fact they deserve to know firsthand what has happened to you."

She walked a little closer to the desk and saw something leaning against it that made her gasp. "Is…is that…?"

"Your family's sword?" he asked. "Yes. Grandfather had wanted to melt it down so he could have a new sword for the family but I demanded it as a wedding gift."

"Will you return it to Robb?"

"No. It is yours now and will be our second son's when he inherits Winterfell." His voice was firm and final.

"O-of course, my lord."

The scratching of the quill stopped but he did not move from his chair. "Do you know why I have never actually talked to you before now, my lady?" he asked.

"No," she answered.

"Because since I was a child, I was taught that family was everything. Then I had heard about how you betrayed your family because you were too blind in what you thought was love. You can see how low I thought of you."

Tears came to her eyes at those words. They managed to worm their way past her and delve deep into her heart. "Haven't I suffered enough for that already?" she asked, her voice already becoming thick. It still hurt her to remember how she ran to the queen and told her what her lord father was doing, all because she was love with Joffrey and couldn't see the cruelty until it was too late.

"…Yes, you have," he answered with a surprisingly gentle tone in his voice, making her tears stop. "You were also kind to Sandor, which redeems you somewhat in my eyes."

"You know of the Hound?" She had not seen him since the Battle of the Blackwater.

"He's the one who taught me to fight." He stood up from the desk. He reached out for the patch and took it, looping it around his head in a manner that was well practiced. "Whatever we might think of one another in the past, it is different now, my lady. We are husband and wife, wedded in the eyes of the Seven. So I will only hold you to do one thing."

"What?" she asked him; unsure of what it was he was going to ask of her.

He stepped away from the desk and turned to face her. His tunic was a crimson red and hung on his body to show what it was with a sense of modesty. A cord of yarn hung around his neck and attached to it was a tooth, yellowed with age. Beneath the tunic, she could barely see a mass of white scaring on his left shoulder. "Stay faithful to me and our family and I will do the same to them and to you."

She didn't realize how close he had gotten until all she could see when she looked up was his eye and the patch. But those words, she never thought that she would hear them from a Lannister. They carried themselves with a quiet weight and yet were spoken gently. She looked at his face and met him with her answer, "As you say, my lord."

Something flickered in his eye but she did not know what it was. "Good. Let us retire. I imagine that we're both tired from today and could use a good night's rest." He turned around and began taking off his tunic.

That surprised her. "But…but the bedding—?"

"I will not bed you until you are willing, Sansa," he told her as the tunic came off and fell to the floor.

"But the people are expecting it."

"You mean my lord grandfather and lady aunt are expecting it," he replied as his pants fell down to the floor as well. "They can go fuck themselves. You will be bedded when you want to be bedded, not before. Anyone who tries to say or do otherwise will have a problem with me."

She felt the promise in those words and just knew that he would hold to them. The words of his father came back to her and now she knew that he had been telling the truth. "Thank you my…Tytos," she told him.

"Come to bed, Sansa," he told her back as he slipped beneath the covers. And she did.

 **Jaime**

(Location: Throne Room)

The king was dead. His…son was dead. And the person being blamed for it was his brother, all because he had held the cup that killed Joffrey. He had been arrested mere seconds after Joffrey had died and now, he was going through this farce of a trial.

And it was a farce, Jaime could tell that much. The evidence Cersei had collected against Tyrion was outrageous to say the least. It had started out as a few good things that Tyrion had done and they got worse from there, talking about how he planned to kill Joffrey. If he looked at the chairs seated before the Iron Throne, he could see that the Fat Flower was eating up every word, the Red Viper was amused, and his father just watched Tyrion with his eyes.

Cersei sat as close as she could to the Iron Throne, her satisfaction evident on her face as she watched the proceedings continue. If he looked out to the galleries of people there, he saw his nephew and his new wife sitting close. It was a match he had never really thought would work and yet, they sat together.

Tyrion himself sat in the stand before the throne, looking oddly comfortable. Whatever insult and lies the "witnesses" threw at him, he remained sitting. That was not like Tyrion. He would get angry and shout back at them. But instead, he remained sitting. Sitting and waiting. _"Something is going to happen,"_ Jaime thought to himself. _"He has a plan."_

When the last witness, Varys, stepped down from the second stand, Tywin looked at Tyrion. "Do you have any defense of your own?" he asked.

"If it would please the court," Cersei said, standing up from her chair. "I beg your leave to bring—"

"I believe he was talking to _me_ , dear sister," Tyrion said, interrupting her. "Unless you've suddenly shrunk and have started going by my name." Nervous laughter rang in the galleys, laughter that died under the stare of the Hand. "As a matter of fact, Father, I do have someone to defend me. I call upon Tytos Lannister."

His son stood up from where he sat and descended to the floor, walking to the witness stand. "Tytos of House Lannister, what do you have to say in Tyrion's defense?" Father asked him.

"Nothing," he answered. Shocked gasps echoed in the galleries but Tyrion himself was not shocked. "I am not here to defend my father. I am here to ask a question: why are we doing this?"

The judges were confused, even though Father did not show it. "What do you mean by that?" Lord Tyrell asked him.

" _Yes, what do you mean nephew?"_ Jaime silently asked.

"My father did not kill Joffrey. But if he did, why are we having this trial? If he truly killed Joffrey, we should be rewarding and honoring him." Everyone, with the exception of Tyrion, looked at him like he had gone mad.

"You say that we should reward him?" Lord Tyrell said again stupidly. "He was the king."

"So was the Mad King. That didn't stop my lord grandfather from betraying him and sacking this very city or my uncle from killing him. They weren't tried, why should my father be?"

It was a clever thing to say and do, Jaime realized as the hall fell into stunned silence. His nephew compared the Mad King to Joffrey and what House Lannister had supposedly done to both. He could see what was going to come next and he found that he could not disagree with it.

Cersei could, however. "Joffrey was nothing like the Mad King!" she declared, her hands clenching the arms of her chair. "He was a good, kind, strong boy who was destined to become a great king!"

"Hear hear!" Maester Pycelle said in his wheezing voice.

"Hear hear!" the Kingsguard, except for him, said as one. The galleries, particularly the witnesses Cersei had found against Tyrion, began to echo the sentiment. But then Tytos did something unexpected: he laughed.

He threw his head back and laughed loudly. His laughter echoed throughout the hall, making it sound like there were many versions of him laughing there. It overrode everyone who began speaking, silencing them all. Just as soon as the laughter had appeared, so did it vanished (the echoes took a little longer). "What is so funny, young Lannister?" Lord Tyrell asked him.

"The mere fact that my aunt is delusional enough to still believe that," he answered before looking at Cersei. "Joffrey was as much as those things you claim he was as much you are a man." Again the shocked gasps came to the insult he threw at her. He turned in the stand to look at everyone in the hall. "To say that Joffrey was human is an insult to the rest of us. The truth is quite simple: your precious king was nothing more than a mad idiot in fancy clothes."

He turned to the Grand Maester. "'The most noblest child the gods ever put on this good earth?'" he said, repeating Pycelle's words back to him. "After promising mercy to Lord Eddard Stark, promising to send him to the Wall in exchange for his confession, he had Ser Payne take his head, starting the very war we are in now. Does that sound like the actions of a noble child?" he asked the people in the room.

He didn't bother to wait for an answer before turning to Ser Meryn Trant. "That day you spoke of, ser, where my father called the king a halfwit, you neglected to tell them all what he and you were doing. Shall we tell them?" He turned once more to the people. "The king was pointing a loaded crossbow at Sansa Stark, his then betrothed. Why? Because her brother had won a battle against our forces," he answered his own question.

"His Grace had been merciful and did not fire the crossbow," Ser Meryn objected.

" _Idiot,"_ Jaime thought to himself. His nephew was just getting started and all he did was just add fuel.

Tytos swung his head to look at the Kingsguard. "Yes, he didn't fire the crossbow because he had enough brains in his head to realize that if he did that, he would lose a hostage. Instead, he amused himself by doing such things and having the Kingsguard _beat her_. What exactly were you doing during this, Ser Meryn? I remember quite well. You claimed that you were serving your king while you tore the dress off _my wife and beat her_!" More gasps of surprise came from the people watching this.

But Tytos was not done. "And yet, for all his cruelty, his vaunted strength, his bragging of what he would do to his enemies, Joffrey was also a coward. In the battle of the Blackwater, when the fighting came to the gates and the walls, instead of leading his men like a king, he turned and fled back to the castle like a child crying for his mother's skirts. He did this while my father and I fought and held the enemy back."

The crowd was beginning to turn their opinion against Joffrey, Jaime could see it in the way they milled about in their seats and talked with one another in silent whispers. Some were even showing Lady Sansa sympathetic looks. "If I may go back to a previous point, Tytos Lannister?" asked Prince Oberyn, still looking rather amused at all that was happening. "For all your claims of what King Joffrey was, the evidence against your lord father is insurmountable."

"My father did not kill Joffrey."

"Such faith in one's own father," he remarked lightly.

"Aye, I have faith in my father. I know that he didn't kill Joffrey because he wouldn't renege on me like that."

Those words held the interest of the three judges. "Pray tell, what do you mean by that?"

"My father and I came to an agreement a long time ago: that the only one who would kill Joffrey would be me."

Silence fell upon the throne room as everyone stared at him. Some did it with gaped jaws and some did it with wide eyes. Some even did both. Cersei looked like she was ready to leap out of her chair but still stayed in it. The only two who did not look surprised were Tyrion and Lord Tywin. "Are you saying that you are the one who could have killed King Joffrey, Tytos?" Jaime's father asked him in a cold voice.

"Would have? Gladly and willing with a great deal of satisfaction in doing so," he answered. "But unfortunately, I could not have killed him. I could not because I was at the farthest edge of the royal table beside my wife and I would not have used poison to kill him."

"You see? You see!?" Cersei shouted as she came out of her chair. "He is a traitor and a Kinslayer! He would have gladly killed my son, the king! He and his dwarf of a father murdered my sweet Joffrey! They—"

She suddenly fell quiet as Tytos turned his head to stare at her. Jaime didn't need to see it to know what it was that made his sister go silent and stumble back into her chair, he had seen it before. It was the look his father used to turn on them and lords that had irritated him. It was a look that demanded they be silent and he did not know of anyone who had been able to resist that glare.

His hands reached up and undid the eyepatch he wore. He held it in his hand as he continued to stare at Cersei, who was now looking anywhere but there. "Look at it, Aunt Cersei," he told her, spitting out the last two words like they were something foul. He did not raise his voice to her and he did not threaten her but his voice sent shivers down Jaime's spine. Not only had he used Father's stare but his voice also.

Cersei did not do as she was commanded, until he said it again. "Look at it." She did but she could not hold her gaze for long. Tytos turned his head to look at the galleries. He only saw for a moment, but Jaime knew what lay behind that patch: white scarring and an empty socket.

The weaker people in the galleries fainted at the sight of his empty eye socket but he kept his gaze on them all. "I know you have all wondered why I have an eyepatch at such a young age. I was born with green in my right eye, from my father, and blue in my left, from my mother. When I was seven, King Robert and the royal court had come to visit Casterly Rock. During their visit, I came upon Prince Joffrey trying to drown his sister, the Princess Myrcella, in a fountain of water.

"I pushed him away and took her to the maester. But even then I knew my loyalty to my family and I told the maester that she must've slipped and fall into the fountain. He was able to ensure she lived and I thought nothing of it. Until that night, when I woke to find a knight holding me down and another keeping me gagged. Then the prince appeared, holding a dagger in hand. He called me a useless bastard who should not exist, that I wasn't a pure Lannister. Then he told me that he would make me a pure Lannister and plunged that dagger into my left eye. He tore it out as I screamed into the gag.

"He would have done more, if not for a maidservant who had been passing seen what happened and ran screaming. They ran and left me there. I do not remember the next few days as pain was the only thing I knew, pain and nightmares. But I was told of what happened the day before I awoke. To this day, I believe that the only reason my father did not bury an axe into Joffrey's head was because my grandfather was there."

It was true, Jaime knew that. Tyrion had stormed into the feasting hall with a battleax in hand. He had marched up to the high table, screaming for Joffrey's head. He remembered the sheer look of terror on Joffrey's face at the sight of him. He also remembered Cersei standing up and demanding that Tyrion leave and then Robert stood up, demanding what was going on. Tyrion told them all in a voice that was barely raging. Joffrey protested and his sister came to her son's defense. His uncles and aunt were all shocked, for they knew Tytos and loved him. It all became a mess of shouting and threats until Lord Tywin had stood up and ordered everyone to be silent. He told Tyrion to leave and attend his son and then he told the king that they were to leave the next day. Robert might've protested, but they left all the same.

Tytos pulled a dagger from his belt. The metal scrapping against the leather was enough to bring Jaime of his reminiscing. "This is the dagger that took my eye," he said to all, holding it high. "I kept since that day so I could repay Joffrey for what he did, as a Lannister always repays his debts. If I was to kill Joffrey, the first thing I would have done was stab his eye out, like he had done mine."

Jaime heard those words and suddenly understood why, when Joffrey was laid out to be shown, he had been missing his left eye. Tytos turned back to the Iron Throne and pointed his dagger at one of the Kingsguard. "Tell me, Ser Boros, how did it feel to hold down a child while your prince cut out his eye? I must ask you, for Ser Preston my gagger is already dead."

"Enough," Lord Tywin finally said. Jaime was surprised it took him this long. "Tytos, if you do not have anything in your father's defense, you will step down."

"Oh, why are we going to let this farce of a trial go on?" Tyrion asked, speaking for the first time. "You three have already decided my guilt. Since it seems I cannot trust in men, I must trust in the gods to decide my fate." He lifted his head and raised his voice. "I demand a trial by combat!"

The people in the galleries started making noise, much louder this time. The spears of the gold cloaks began banging against the floor to make them silent. Jaime looked over at Cersei and saw how pleased she was at that news. "He has that right, my lords," she said to the judges. "Let the gods judge. Ser Gregor Clegane will stand for Joffrey. He returned to the city the night before last, to put his sword at my service."

" _She was hoping it would come to this,"_ Jaime realized. She had been hoping he would ask for a trial by combat and had summoned the Mountain for it.

Father had an angry look on his face. Lord Tyrell was the one who asked the question of Tyrion. "Do you have a champion to defend your innocence?"

"Me," Tytos answered. Father seemed to look even angrier.

 **Oberyn**

(Location: Red Keep)

" _This is most certainly interesting,"_ he mused as he sat amongst the royal group as his rank benefitted him. Ellaria sat by his side, most likely shocking the other people there. They did enjoy shocking the northerners like this. But was shocking for them was that the boy king was there. From what he heard, it was a request by the Imp's champion.

He saw the Mountain standing on his side of the battleground, clad in heavy plate, and his blood coursed with hatred at the sight. If he had known that the Mountain would be the one to fight against the Imp, he would have volunteered to fight him. He so wanted to make the giant monster bleed for what he did to Elia and her children and make him say he did it. But instead, the Imp's son had claimed that honor.

"You wanted to fight _that_?" Ellaria whispered in his ear as she too looked at the Mountain that Rides.

"I wanted to kill _that_ ," he whispered back.

He turned his head to look at the other side. Compared to the Mountain, Tytos Lannister looked tiny and ill-prepared, wearing only boiled leather and chain mail, standing by a lit brazier. His weapons lay on the table beside him, a sword, an axe, and a hammer. It was like he did not know which one to choose for the fight. But he did not look frightened. His eyes were closed as he held a necklace with some kind of tooth attached to it to his lips. Perhaps he was saying some last prayer before going to battle?

He opened his eyes and turned to his wife, the former Sansa Stark. She was a pretty young thing who he and Ellaria might've bedded together if she was not married to a Lannister. Her husband offered her the necklace and she took it, despite the fear and nervousness in her eyes. Oberyn realized then that she was afraid for him.

As the High Septon said a prayer before them all, Tytos walked over to his father and went to his knees. The Imp gave him a father's kiss on his forehead. _"They love each other,"_ the Red Viper thought in surprise. He had thought that Tytos would be doing this kind of thing out of family loyalty. Even Dorne had heard the story of the Imp lost his lowborn wife the same way he had lost his mother. Oberyn would've thought that he would be like his father and hate his son for it. But he truly loved his son just as his son loved his father.

The High Septon finished his prayer. The Mountain took his sword and shield, both truly monstrous things in height. Tytos took the hammer, not the size of the Usurper's famed Warhammer but big enough to hold with two hands if he had to, and put it in a loop on his belt. He then took the axe in his left and the sword in his right. What was odd was that he held the axe with the spike pointing outwards instead of the blade.

The Hand of the King raised his hand and then lowered it. The two combatants moved towards one another, silencing the crowd around the battlefield. When they were close, the Mountain swung first. It was a swing that Tytos easily stepped back from. But the Mountain did not follow after him.

This continued on into the fight, the Mountain always swinging, missing his opponent, and never pursuing. During this, Tytos never swung back or attacked. He would just step out of the way of the swing. _"Why is that monster not attacking him fully?"_ Oberyn wondered. _"He should've done that by now."_

It seems he wasn't the only one who had noticed. "What were my grandfather's orders, Ser Gregor?" Tytos asked the Mountain as he avoided another swing. "Did he tell you to not kill me?"

"…Yes," he answered in a deep voice as he raised his sword for another swing. "You only require a sharp lesson."

Suddenly, the young Lannister leapt into a roll, moving past his giant opponent. He came out of the roll with a pivot, stopping just behind the Mountain. He swung his weapons upwards, past the leather hanging down from the armor, right into the knees.

The sounds that they made were outdone by the roar of pain that Mountain gave off as he fell to the bloody mess that was his knees. Tytos pulled his weapons out and stood up. But he did not continue his attack. Instead, dropped them and then pulled out the hammer, swinging it at the head of the Mountain. It wasn't strong enough to bash his head in, only disorient him. He swayed slightly from side to side, losing his grip on the sword and shield he held.

Again, Tytos struck. He first grabbed the left hand and swung the hammer down. There was a crunching sound that was sickening to hear to those who had never seen anything like. The Mountain roared again in pain when his left hand was broken, then his right. He could hold no weapons now and he could not stand.

The young Lannister did something peculiar then. He dropped the hammer and reached for the Mountain's helmet, unbuckling it and throwing it off his helmet. Even on his knees, the Mountain was a formidable height, making his opponent draw out his dagger and hold it at his throat at an angle. For once, the size of the Mountain worked against him. His opponent was so small that he could not move his hands (broken as they were) back to reach him.

"Stop moving," Tytos ordered the Mountain, who had been trying to get free. He did not listen and continued his struggle. The Imp's son fought to hold him there. "Bring that fucking thing here, now!" he shouted to the two men standing next to the brazier.

They grabbed hold of it and started bringing it towards them. The Mountain fought even harder to get free. He tried shoving his shoulders back against the Lannister but Tytos took with a tolerance Oberyn found surprising in such a young man. Never once did he release his grip on the Mountain.

When the brazier was finally place in front of them, the young Lannister only said one thing as he dropped the dagger. "Tommen, don't look away." Then he began to use all of his strength to push the head of the Mountain that Rides into the fire. It must've been a task that took all of his strength to even force the head down.

As the head descended, the monster kept trying to fight free. Oberyn saw blood fly when his shoulder struck the Imp's son in the eye but he still held on, forcing the head down and down. It wasn't until the Mountain's head was fully in the brazier that he started screaming. It was a deep roar of a scream that gradually grew higher and higher as his face burned. His struggling became more and more frantic as the screaming rose. The Lannister must've felt the heat in his hands but still kept him held down.

Eventually, the screaming stopped but Tytos kept holding him down. It was only when the struggling stopped that he pulled the Mountain that Rides out of the brazier with a deep red on his hands that Oberyn had seen on very sunburnt skin. But the worse sight was Ser Gregor's face. It was a blackened mess with flesh already being burned through and scarred. If the man had lived, his face would've been like that of a demon from one of the seven hells.

With a seemingly great effort, Tytos pushed the Mountain's corpse down onto the ground and stepped back, breathing very heavily. "You will have to forgive me, _ser_ ," he said to the corpse. "I could not find a bedsheet to catch fire on you. So a brazier had to do. It did for Sandor after all."

Oberyn knew the name of the Hound and he knew that he and the Mountain were brothers. But why would a Lannister concern himself with one enough to kill the other in his name? Then he realized that the Mountain that Rides was dead. He was dead, dead for the name of another and not by his hand.

"Tommen," Tytos said to the boy king. "Starting tomorrow, you will meet me in the training yard as the sun rises. I will train you how to fight." His voice brokered no arguments and no opposite. King Tommen just nodded weakly.

The Imp's son began walking back to his side of the field even as his grandfather proclaimed Tyrion's innocence. The two men came to his side. As Tywin finished speaking, he began. "Strip him of his armor and melt it down. Then feed his body to the dogs." He paused for a second and then said, "Before you do that, cut off his manhood and give it to Prince Martell as a gift."

He turned to look at the royal stand, at Oberyn. He raised his red hand in a little salute before lowering it and kept walking back to his father and wife. The Red Viper watched as he went, seeing how he cradled his red hands. He found himself chuckling. There was a kindred spirit in the young lion, they just wanted the monster dead only for different reasons. As for the gifted manhood, well, how could he and Dorne refuse?

 **Tommen**

(Location: Red Keep)

"You're late," Tytos said he walked into the yard. Margaery, her ladies, her brother Loras followed him and probably so did half of the court.

"Margaery invited me to share breakfast with her," he answered quietly.

"And did you enjoy this breakfast?" His cousin wore no tunic over his body, leaving his chest bare for all to see. He heard a few of the ladies giggle but he didn't know why they would. All he could see was the massive scarring on Tytos's left shoulder that traveled down his arm and across his chest. It was horrifying thing to see but it was also something he could not look away from, like the Hound's face.

"Yes?" he replied, making it sound like it was a question.

Tytos just snorted. "Get over here," he ordered, pointing to a spot right in front of him. His hands were wrapped in white linen.

He went to the spot like he was told. "What are we going to doing, coz?" he asked him. After what he saw yesterday, Tytos scared him. Not like Joffrey, but enough.

"I am going to be teaching. You are going to be learning."

"Oh, okay. What am I going to be learning?"

"The first thing any warrior needs to learn: pain." He swung his right arm and Tommen felt a stunning pain in his cheek. He fell to the ground as it blossomed. He heard gasps but didn't see where they came from. "Get up, Tommen." He did so and was punched in the other cheek. He fell down again and this time, tears began leaking out of his eyes. "Get up."

He shook his head, not wanting to. He got a foot in his tummy and he rolled away from it even as the pain erupted in his tummy. A gross thing filled his mouth and he hurled it out. Seeing it there on the grass made him even sicker and he hurled again. A kick hit him again he fell to the ground once more.

"Get up, Tommen," he heard Tytos tell him. "Just because you're on the ground doesn't mean I won't hurt you. Get up."

He was crying now. Everything was hurting. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. Why was he acting like Joffrey? Why was he being this mean?"

All it earned him was another kick. "Get up."

Not wanting to get kicked, he did as he was told. But that just earned him another punch that sent him down to the ground. Faintly, he heard the court saying something, shouting words. "Good ser, stop this!" he heard Margaery cry out.

"I'm not a knight," Tytos replied.

"I am!" Ser Loras cried. As he looked up, Tommen saw the Knight of Flowers, clad in the white of the Kingsguard step forward.

"Stay out of this, Tyrell," his cousin told him.

"I will not. I am one of King Tommen's seven and—" He reached out to stop Tytos, only to have him be punched with a sound that echoed in the air.

"Loras!" Margaery cried as her brother fell out of Tommen's sight.

"Get up, Tommen," Tytos told him. But he didn't want to move. He just wanted to lie there until the pain away. But then he got another kick in his side. "Are you going to cry for your mother? Are you going to run for her skirts? Joffrey did that every time something happened he didn't like. Are you Joffrey?"

No, he wasn't Joffrey. He knew that. "I'm not Joffrey," he said in a voice filled with pain.

"Yes you are. You're both sobbing, pathetic, excuses who always cry for their mother when something goes wrong, never trying to fix it themselves. Now get up." He didn't move and it earned him another kick. "I thought you were a Lannister, Tommen. What are our words?"

His breath came in ragged gasps and breaths. But he could still answer. "H-Hear Me Roar."

"Are you a lion? Am I going to hear you roar?"

"I am a lion." He tried to get up but soon as he stood, another punch sent him back down.

"All I see is a mewling cub."

"He's just a boy!" someone shouted at his cousin but he did nothing to reply.

But it was the shout that made Tommen start to get back up. Was that Mother coming towards him? Was she trying to stop this? No, he would not allow it. He stood up and leapt at Tytos with a scream, already swinging wildly. But then the world turned upside down and he found himself on the ground, facing his cousin who had his fist pulled back to punch.

But then he lowered his fist and released him. "Good," he said approvingly.

Everything still hurt but it fell to a dull ache. He could still feel tears on his face. "Why?" he asked his cousin.

For some reason, he reached down and held up the necklace of the lion's tooth. "Do you know how I got this?"

He nodded. It was a story he had heard a lot of times from family and the like. Grandfather and his family were riding through the mountains and one night, a barely grown lion attacked Tytos. They barely fought (but the singers would have him believe that it lasted for hours) before the rest of the party fended it off, leaving Tytos with a wounded shoulder from where the lion bit and clawed him but also with a tooth he had knocked out of the lion's mouth.

"Do you think that it was nice and easy when I tried fighting that lion off? No. It was painful. I was half-numb with the pain and that pain stayed for the next week. Training to be a warrior is not going to be easy, Tommen It's going to be hard, tiring, and most of all, painful. Pain is going to be with you every step of the way. And even when you are done training, you find yourself on the battlefield and the pain will be there too. It's best for you to know it early, to know pain and focus past it. That was how the Hound trained me at the start."

The king was fascinated by the words he heard. "Does it work?" he asked.

"What makes you think I'm not in pain right now?" his cousin asked before showing his hands. "These hurt. They are going to hurt until my hands are normal once more. They hurt even more when I swing them. Does it stop me? No. Are you going to let the pain stop you?"

He wiped away the tears on his face and shook his head. "No."

"Then get up. We're not done." And he did.

 **Tytos**

(Location: Red Keep)

He sat in the chair opposite his grandfather, having been ordered to see him. "I suppose you think yourself clever," Lord Tywin said from behind his desk. There was a decanter of wine and two cups on the desk but they were not touched.

"In what way, my lord?" he asked.

"The duel with the Mountain," he answered.

"You were the one who gave him the order. I only used it to my advantage." Of course, he didn't mention having placed orders to have Ser Gregor's meals drugged as soon as he had arrived so he would be slow and weak by the time the duel started. Both he and his father figured out he would've been the only one Cersei would call if it came to a trial by combat.

"I was talking about your little gift to the Martells."

"Prince Oberyn came to King's Landing for the chance to kill the Mountain. Since he didn't do it himself after coming all that way, I thought it best to ensure he left with some kind of a gift."

"A gift would've been the Mountain's head, yet you give him his manhood."

"They do say that he raped Princess Elia before she was killed." They sat in silence for a moment longer. "Is there anything you need, my lord, or am I just here to being scolded?"

Lord Tywin ignored that remark and continued on. "You will be sent to the Westerlands soon with my brother Kevan. There you will be taught in how to rule. After you come of age, you will be knighted."

"I will not."

"You most certainly will."

"No, I will not. I lost my faith in knighthood and chivalry the night two Kingsguard held me down while my _cousin_ cut out my eye." That had been why he had sought out Sandor to train him. He could still remember that day. Him all but running out into the courtyard with the bandage still wrapped around his head, going to the Hound with his helmet closed shut and telling him to train him. Sandor opened his helmet's visor to look at him better.

"Why don't you go find a knight to teach you, boy, and get the fuck out of the way of my horse?" he demanded.

But Tytos stood firm. "I don't want a knight to teach me. I want you to teach me." Sandor looked at him longer. And then he climbed down from his horse, agreeing to it. The lessons he had learn were painful and many, but he learned and survived.

"I will go to the Westerlands gladly, but I will not be a knight," he said. "I'm sure Sansa will finally enjoy being out of King's Landing. This place has not been good to her." It was a slow thing, but he found himself beginning to enjoy the company of his wife.

"If you cherished your wife in such a way, you should already have gotten her with child."

He frowned. "I am not a monster. I will only bed her when she is willing to be bedded."

His grandfather only looked more disappointed. "And here I thought you were more like your father in that aspect, whoring little dwarf that he is."

He hardened his gaze. "It is only recent and it is one woman. You know well that he has spent these years raising me."

"The woman he is sleeping with is still a whore. This I will not abide."

"Why? Because you're sleeping with her too?" he asked. The only sign that showed his grandfather was surprised was in the slight widening of his eyes. "I may only have one eye, but that doesn't mean I can't see. I know what Shae is, as does Father and you. But you have only slept with her as a way of punishing him."

"And what if I am?"

"Then the Westerlands and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms will breathe a sigh of relief once they finally get over your death."

"Is that a threat, Tytos?"

He shook his head slightly. "No, it is a fact. Despite that your bannermen follow you, they do not like you. They find you over-proud, insensitive, far too ruthless, and much too concerned about your legacy. Uncle Jaime told me about your wish to 'establish a dynasty that lasts a thousand years.' But you're too blind to realize our chance for a thousand year dynasty has long since passed. It passed when House Lannister stopped being Kings of the Rock and became Lords of the Westerlands."

The fury coming from those eyes was almost palpable but he did not flinch from them. His Father had taught how to weather the Lion of the Rock. The silence dragged on before the Lion spoke again. "And how would do you go about it then? Be like your namesake and forgive every slight made against the house?"

He shook his head. "No, I won't. Father named me after his grandfather because he wished to have that name be remembered with strength again. Lord Tytos was too kind, I have heard. But you are too ruthless, Grandfather. I would be kind when I can and ruthless when I must."

"Foolishness," he stated.

"Smart," Tytos said back. "What has your ruthless gotten you, my lord?"

"It has brought House Lannister out of the mud my father was dragging it through and given the Seven Kingdoms twenty years of peace."

"And now, the house name is being dragged through a different kind of mud, all because you don't know how to take 'no' for an answer." He had known about the plans to marry Aunt Cersei to Prince Rhaegar and Prince Oberyn had quite the tale about him, his sister, and a trip by ship to Casterly Rock.

"Do you hate me, boy?"

"On the contrary, Grandfather, I respect you. For all you've done wrong, you've done as you've claim and brought the house back from the brink to where it can be respected once more. But respect can only go so far. Once you pass on, I will be left to clean up your mess and I will try and do so."

"Very arrogant of you to say something like before you even learned to rule."

"Aunt Genna once told me that I was as much as Tyrion's son as he was yours." His one eye narrowed. "I hope to the gods that's true."

Lord Tywin's face did not change. "Explain."

"Don't be coy, _my lord_ ," he said the two words with a spitting hatred. "We both know that you used Joffrey's death in an attempt to get rid of my father."

"He is a disgrace to the family name."

"He is my father. Tell me that you never loved your own father in spite of what he was." He received no reply. "I thought as much. It will be your last attempt to do so, yours and Aunt Cersei's."

"And do you plan on enforcing that?"

"If it happens again and I find out that it's either of you, I will kill you."

To that, the Lion of the Rock scoffed. "No man is as accused as the Kinslayer, boy. You seem to forget that."

"You seem to forget that I had no qualms in admitting to wanting to kill Joffrey. What makes you think that I wouldn't do the same to you?"

"I am your family," Lord Tywin declared.

Tytos kept his gaze level on him. "You may be my grandfather and Cersei may be my aunt, but I don't see you as family."

"Your house is your family. Your blood is your family."

"No, family is the people you choose to be your family. Tommen and Myrcella, they are my family. Uncle Kevan, Aunt Genna, and Sandor, they are my family. Joy Hill, your brother's bastard daughter, Uncle Jaime, for all his faults, is family. The man in Lannisport who taught me how to fish and who I make an effort to see when I can, Ser Benedict Broom, who first taught me how to wield a sword and who I always spar against when I can, and Podrick, my father's square, is family. You and Cersei are not my family." He stood up from his chair. "And if you are not my family and turn against me, I have no qualms about destroying you." He held his gaze against Lord Tywin as he spoke. "Good night, my lord. Please let me know when it is time to leave for the Westerlands so I, my wife, and my father can make our preparations. I will see myself out."

He turned and walked out of the room, keeping his eyes straight as he walked, closing the door behind him. Things were going well. He had been named heir to Casterly Rock and everything that came with it. He and his father managed to create a plan that was able to save his life, kill someone Tytos always wanted to kill for what he did, and stave off Dorne for a bit longer. Myrcella was safe and he was currently working on getting Tommen out of his mother's clutches by teaching him how to fight.

This would all work in the end. He wasn't his grandfather, who was blinded by what he could see. He saw the truth of the matter: House Lannister was one step away from losing the Iron Throne. The Dragon Queen was coming. He knew the truth of Cersei's children (he did wonder how no one had seen it before the war started) and wanted to make them safe. And Myrcella was safe in Dorne, betrothed to Prince Doran's youngest son.

Once word of Daenerys Targaryen's eventual march on Westeros reached him at the Rock, he would have Tommen brought there, officially to square but also to keep him out of the way. That would only leave his grandfather and (if he was lucky) aunt in King's Landing. He was counting on the fact that Cersei would want to rule when Tommen leaves, thus making her and Tywin fight for control in the capital.

Amidst that chaos, the Targaryen queen will descend. House Lannister earned King Robert's favor by murdering Princess Elia and her children. They would earn House Targaryen's appeasement by sacrificing Lord Tywin and his daughter (perhaps even his son, if Tytos cannot persuade Jaime to come with Tommen to the Rock), and ensuring that Tommen gave up his crown.

What came after Tywin's death would be him ruling the Westerlands for Daenerys Targaryen. Lord Tywin was respected and feared by the lords of the lands and they will most likely think that he will be easy pickings. He will rid them of that notion but he will not be like Lord Tywin. He was a lord who ruled by ruthlessness. He would be a one who ruled by example. That was the kind of lord Tytos Lannister, son of the Imp, would be. He would, in no way, be a second coming of Lord Tywin.

" _Rejoice, Grandfather,"_ he thought to himself as he walked down the corridor to his chambers. _"When the dragons come with Fire & Blood, your life will be given to them. But the lions will not fall when you are gone. When I take your place as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, the Westerlands and Westeros will Hear Me Roar."_

 **End**

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

This was an idea that was bouncing around in my head as a part of my original Naruto/ASOIAF idea. But while I gave that up, this stayed around and kept me intrigued. So I finally figured, "What the hell?" and started writing it. It took me about half a week to do so. It's a mixture of the books and the show. Also, there's nothing about Stannis or the Wall because they aren't the concern here.

In this story, Jaime never spilled the beans on Tyrion and Tysha to his father, giving them more time to be together. When she became pregnant, Tyrion was smart enough to realize that the best place to hide her from his father was where no one would think to look for her: in the Rock itself.

She died giving birth to Tytos but Tyrion does not hate him for it like his father does. Instead, he does his best to raise his son, losing his attention to whores (but not the food or drink). Growing up, Tytos was an uncertainty. No one knew whether to call him a Lannister or a Hill. As you can probably guess, Cersei and Joffrey were on the side of Hill.

Originally, how Tytos got the tooth was because of how the lion ambushed him and they fought. Then I realized that I was talking about a lion ambushing someone. If that happens, they're dead, period. So instead, it landed on him and began going for his shoulder while he was able to get one good punch in and take out a tooth before the rest of the Lannister party drove off the lion. The singers are going to be the ones to say it was a duel. And of course he was going to get scaring. This is Westeros we're talking about here.

If you look at the two of them side by side, you can see how Tywin and his father were two extreme ends. Lord Tytos was far too kind, easy-going, and weak-willed. On the other hand, Tywin was not kind and completely and utterly ruthless. But both are not good for ruling a place. What you need is a balancing point between the two. You hit that spot, you're going to be just fine.

I personally subscribe to the theory that if anyone has declared anything remotely similar to the phrase "Establish a dynasty that lasts a thousand years," have officially fucked themselves over. If you don't believe me, go through every book you've ever read and find out if someone had said something like that. If they did, follow their story and see what happens to them. I know what happens. They and whatever they were trying to build, come crashing down hard. Look at the Lannisters if you don't believe me. Once Tywin's dead, everything that they have starts going down the drain.

I'll see you all in the next story!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

The Lion's heir

Chapter 2

"Talking"

" _Thinking"_

 **Tywin**

(Location: Casterly Rock)

He strode into the hall as the sun rose and shined through the windows, signaling the morning breakfast. It was a small hall, enough for a long table at the center of it and a fire opposite the door. There were many halls in the Rock but this one was for the main family of House Lannister. Although his father had called it the Lion's Den, he refused to name it as such. But it had spread to the rest of the Rock before he became the official head of the house, so there was nothing he could do about it. Best to leave it be.

His brothers and sister were already sitting in the hall. Kevan sat with his wife and his children, Lancel a small boy at his side and his twin sons in the arms of their mother. Emmon Frey sat quietly beside his lady wife, not making a sound as he ate. His marriage might've made Genna a Frey but that was in name only. In truth, Tywin's sister was the one who ran that marriage. He said nothing about it as it was his sister but if it had been some other, he would have taken steps to fix that.

Gerion sat beside Kevan's family, entertaining his nephews with stories that were making them and him laugh. He was always the fool in the family, never able to take his duties or himself seriously. "Tywin, how nice of you to join us this fine morning," he said once he saw his eldest brother amongst them. "It's a rare sight to see the Lion of the Rock out and about so early."

Tywin fixed him with a stare that had made lessor lords and men fall in silent in horror and terror. But his brother just laughed it away. He continued walking and took his place at the head of the table, with the fire behind him. One of the servants came to his side and placed down his usual breakfast, a pair eggs and bacon with a couple of slices of fresh bread. He reached for the fork, his eyes searching the table. "Where is he?" he asked.

"Where is who?" Gerion asked, trying to be innocent sounding but failing with that smirk on his lips. "There are many men in the Rock, brother. Perhaps you could be more specific?"

"Gerion," Kevan said a slightly warning tone to his voice. He had always been the one who tried to stop their youngest brother before he went too far. He hadn't always been so successful.

"Where is Tyrion?" Tywin asked them all.

"Most likely still abed," Genna replied. "Emmon, go and find him, will you?" she said to her husband, barely giving him a look.

"Yes, dear," he said, looking to her and to Tywin as he stood up from his chair.

"Gerion, go with him," the Lion of the Rock ordered. "And if you should find him abed with whores—"

"There aren't any whores, Tywin," Gerion told him coldly, cutting him off. "He's not like that now."

"Do as you are told."

The door opened again and his youngest son walked in. "Good morning all," he said, blatantly ignoring his father's look. A year past the age of recognized manhood, his son could barely reach his waist. He had an odd gait because of his stubby legs. The children looked away from his jutting forehead and mismatched hair and eyes, thinking that he was some kind of demon. To Tywin, it was an apt description.

"Where were you?" the father asked his son as he watched him order breakfast. Genna's husband sat back down.

"Ah, yes. Forgive me for being late to the family breakfast. I was tending to my son." He looked around the table. "We seem to be missing a few people. Where is my dear aunt Darlessa and cousin Tyrek?"

"She's still mourning for Tygett," Kevan told him, a hint of sadness coming into his voice. His eyes and the eyes of everyone else fell to the empty chair beside Genna.

It had been only a year since Tygett had died. He had been angry at Tywin for never being able to get over his own shortcomings. Their relationship had not been one of an ideal brotherhood but there was no such thing and it was more of a relationship than the one between the eldest brother and the youngest. At his death, Tywin permitted himself a moment of grief at his passing but that was all. It prompted Gerion to call him a cold unfeeling bastard, which led to one of their more vicious arguments.

But that was not what he chose to focus on. "Why were you with him when your presence was required here?" he demanded of Tyrion.

"He is my son. What kind of father would I be if I did not ensure that he was up and awake?" he replied.

"If that is the case, you should bring young Tytos here, Tyrion," said Gerion. "I'm sure your son would make for wonderful company." He cast a meaningful look at his eldest brother as he spoke those words.

Tywin matched his look with his own. "Enough," he commanded. Tyrion's son was not brought to the family breakfast because of his silent command.

When he had discovered that Tyrion had married a whore and hidden her inside the Rock for the better part of a year, his anger was great. He ordered her to be found and brought to him, yet she could not be found. It was only as the sun was setting that she came to him, heavy with child. She did not tell him that she was in love with his son or that there was nothing he could do to tear them apart.

She only asked him that if there would be a punishment, he inflict it once the baby had been born. She must've been afraid to stand before him and asked that. It showed in her eyes. But she still stood and asked. He agreed and waited. It turned that he did not need to inflict any sort of punishment, as she died in birth. That was the last he would ever hear of the whore. But her son was a different matter.

"How is Tytos, Tyrion?" Kevan asked him.

"He is doing well," he said with a smile on his lips. "Four years old and he's already beginning to learn his letters and numbers. It might not be long until he learns how to read properly."

"It sounds like he is just like you," Genna told him with a smile on her lips.

"I should hope so. I also hope that he gets taller than me."

Tywin ignored him and focused on his breakfast. When it came to Tyrion's child, he ignored it and silently demanded that no one spoke of it either. The rest of the breakfast passed this way and when it was done, he left for his chambers. There was work to be done and he could not waste time with family to ignore it. No one said anything as he left, it was common occurrence.

As he strode through the corridors and halls of the Rock, the servants, men-at-arms, household knights, the squires, all of them bowed their heads to him. He paid them no mind. Why should he? He was the Lion of the Rock. This was his domain and they lived here at his pleasure. If anyone of them did not live up what they were supposed to do, they would be gone or killed at his order.

As he reached the door to his chambers, he paused outside the door. There was a voice coming from inside. Through the door it was muffled and unintelligible but he could hear enough of it to know that it was a young voice belonging to a child. Who had brought a child to his chambers? Whoever it was would be punished along with the child.

He opened the door and walked in. The first thing he saw was the child sitting in his chair staring at the book in front of him, his lips moving as he said "10, 0, 0." The second thing he noticed was the golden hair on his head. The third was the different colored eyes. His grandson sat in his chair. "What are you doing in here?" he asked the boy.

He looked up and his eyes lit up with surprise as he came in and closed the door behind him, still waiting for an answer. But even though there was surprise in the eyes, there was no fear. He looked back down at the book. "Counting," he said simply, pointing at the writing on the paper.

"You came into my chambers so you could count?" It was more of a statement then a question as he crossed the room and stood in front of the table, staring down his grandson.

The boy raised his hands up away from the page. "I did not touch anything," he said in his clear, boyish voice.

"That is not the question I asked you. Did you come into my chambers to count?"

He was silent for a moment before shaking his head no. He climbed down from the chair and walked over to the fireplace, where a portrait hung over it. "I came to see that," he said, pointing up at the portrait.

Tywin barely glanced at the portrait. He knew who it was of, his own father. "Why?"

It seemed that his grandson did not lack for any wits for he did not ask a stupid question. Instead, he said, "Father named me for Great-Grandfather. I wanted to see him to see why."

"And what have you learned from the portrait?"

The boy stared at it once more, his bicolored eyes looking at it intently. "He seems kind."

"He was kind, and weak," Tywin said. "He brought this house to near ruin. His portrait hangs there to remind me to never let that happen again. Now, you will never enter these chambers again without my permission, am I understood?"

The boy looked at him again with no fear in his eyes. "Yes."

"Good. Now tell me, why were you counting from a book on my table?"

"Father always said that I must practice. If I do not practice, I will not learn."

The mention of the Imp made him angry. "Leave," he ordered his grandson as he sat down in his chair and went to his work. He did not look as Tytos walked over to the door and struggled to open it. But as the door stopped moving and he heard his grandson walking out, he chose to impart the lesson his son was trying to teach. "A thousand," he said. The sound of the boy's feet moving stopped and he could feel his curious gaze on him. "A number with four numbers at its back is known as a thousand."

"Thousand," the boy repeated, trying it out in his own mouth. He smiled as he left, saying the word again and again.

 **Jaime**

(Location: Casterly Rock)

"JOFFREY!" roared Tyrion's voice, going before him like a demon, washing over the hall and making everyone turn to the door. Jaime watched as his little brother stomped into the hall with a battleax in hand and murder in his eyes. "YOU ARE DEAD, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

From the corner of his eye, he watched Prince Joffrey push away from the high table with a look of utter horror on his face. Why would he have such a look? The royal family had only been at the Rock for a few days before now. What had happened? Everyone else was too stunned to see Tyrion acting like this to respond. All expect his lord father, who was watching everything with cold eyes, and Cersei, who stood up with anger that made her look all the more beautiful.

"How dare you come here behaving like this!" she shouted at him. Joffrey inched behind her, using her as a shield between him and Tyrion. Myrcella stayed in her seat but her eyes were wide with fear.

"Get out of the way, Cersei," Tyrion ordered her as he marched to the table, his hands still gripping the battleax. "That boy is going to die, slowly and painfully!"

"How dare you!? Get out! Get out of this hall now!"

"Get out of my way!" He was out at the base of the steps and already had a foot on the step.

Jaime caught his dear sister's look, silently telling him to handle it. He came around the table and down the steps, getting his brother's way. "Tyrion, calm yourself," he said, trying to be calming (a rare thing for him).

"Move, Jaime. That boy dies today," his brother told him.

"That's the Crown Prince, Tyrion. It would be bad for you if you go through with this." He was stayed in front of his brother with his hand on his sword. He wouldn't want to do this to his brother. But he would protect his sister.

"I will risk it. Now move." People were beginning to look around and whisper amongst themselves.

"What is going on here?!" finally thundered King Robert Baratheon. He stood up, a great fat bear of man. "Imp, explain yourself!"

"It's simple, your Grace. I'm going to kill your son. Jaime, get out of my way so that I can kill him!"

"Do you want to be smashed to pieces by my hammer?" he asked in a roar. "You think you can harm my boy like that?"

"Your son attacked Tytos and gouged out his eye! He had two of the Kingsguard hold him down!" His cry silenced the hall and Jaime felt a cold feeling wash into his stomach. A quick look back told him that Myrcella was horrified, Robert was confused, his father was watching everything, Cersei was already beginning to refuse to listen to him, and Joffrey cowered behind her.

"What did you say?" the king said, his voice at a normal for once in his life.

"I am saying that your son, the Crown Prince Joffrey, came to my son one night with two members of the Kingsguard and tore out his eye with a knife," Tyrion said through grated teeth, his hands trembling as they held onto the battleax.

"That's a lie!" Joffrey shouted with his voice high with panic. He was still hiding half way behind Cersei. "I didn't touch him!" Everyone was looking at him now. Jaime saw the looks on his uncles' and aunt's faces. It wasn't good to see the looks of horror. It made him look guilty.

"Is this true?" Robert asked Tyrion.

"Did you not just hear your son?" Cersei demanded. "He just said that he didn't."

"Be silent, woman! I was asking the Imp, not you!" he roared at her. "Answer me, Tyrion. Is what you say true?" He sounded more like the warrior he used to be in that moment than the fat drunk Jaime knew he was.

"It is true, King Robert. And now I've come to repay the debt, like a proper Lannister," Tyrion answered, looking Joffrey straight in the eye. He took another step up the stairs but Jaime still blocked his way. "Get out of my way, Jaime."

"If you harm my son, you will be branded a traitor to the crown and will be punished accordingly!" Cersei shouted at him.

"Seven hells!" the king shouted. "Your son did this, Cersei! You bloody Lannisters are always going on about your bloody debts! It seems to me that it's time he learned how to pay it!"

"He's lying, I didn't do anything!" Joffrey shouted, still hiding from behind her skirts.

Tyrion took another step upwards and Jaime drew his sword a half inch out of the scabbard. "I will draw my sword, brother," he told Tyrion. "Don't make me draw it fully. You know you can't best me."

"Get out of my way, Jaime," he said back. "I'm going to make that little bastard pay!"

The sound of a chair scraping the stone floor filled the air. "Be silent," their father ordered everyone as he stood. He did not raise his voice. He did not have to. "Tyrion, leave and tend to your son." Tyrion looked like he wanted to protest but their father kept his gaze level. "Go, now." He turned and left, still holding the battleax.

When Jaime found him later, he didn't have the battleax anymore. He was sitting by his son's bedside. He looked like he hadn't moved in a couple of hours. But compared to him, Jaime's nephew looked far worse. He was moaning as he tossed and turned in the bed, fresh bandages wrapped around his head and the eye. His hand was held tightly by his father.

"I'm sorry, Tyrion," he said, breaking the silence from where he stood at the door.

His brother looked away from the bed at him. His eyes were red and puffy. Jaime realized that he must've been holding it in during the scene in the hall. "What are you sorry for?" he asked, "For stopping me from killing Joffrey?"

"I'm a Kingsguard. I'm sworn to protect the royal family."

"When has that stopped you before?"

He had heard many people say that kind of thing, some to his face and many to his back. But when his own brother said it, it dug at him in such a way that he hadn't felt before. But he ignored it as soon as it came. "Father's told the king to leave. We'll be gone by tomorrow."

The anger returned to his eyes. "So Joffrey is leaving then."

"Tyrion, don't," he said warningly, knowing what he was thinking. "Just leave it be."

"I will not leave it be, not until he pays his debt." Tytos groaned quite audibly from the bed. It got Tyrion's attention and he turned his attention back to it.

Jaime watched the two of them for a moment. He had not seen Tytos until the king paid this visit to the Rock. He had been a curious, inquisitive boy who got his father's brain and was already reaching him in height. He had the sense to laugh at a good jape and could always smile. Now, it seemed like he would not live to laugh or smile again. "Are you certain that it was Joffrey who did this?" he finally asked his brother.

"Yes."

"You can't touch him, Tyrion. He's the Crown Prince." His brother didn't say anything. It worried him. "Can you tell me who the Kingsguard were? It's possible I can do something about them." For once, he and Ser Barristan would likely agree on something.

But Tyrion only shook his head. "The maidservant who discovered them only saw the white of their armor, nothing else."

Tytos stilled. Jaime found himself holding his breath as he watched his nephew. His right eye blinked open, closing fast with a pained sound. "Fa-Father?" he whispered with a tiny little voice.

"I'm here, Tytos," his father said, tightening his grip.

He opened his eye again, allowing the green orb to be seen. "My eye…Joffrey…he…" Tears began to leak out as his voice thickened.

"I know, my son. I know." There were tears in his eyes. Jaime felt like an intruder now, so he left them to be alone. He walked back out the door and closed it behind him.

 **Kevan**

(Location: Westerlands)

"Uncle, am I a bastard or a Lannister?" Tytos asked as he rode beside him amidst a large group of Lannister men. They were traveling back to the Rock from Ashemark and were still in the mountains. They had a week's worth of riding left to the Rock but Kevan enjoyed the journey.

Still, his grandnephew's question surprised him. "That is not a question you should ask, Tytos," he said in reply, turning his head to look at him. At ten years of age, he rode and stood tall. A person only had to look at his golden hair and green eye to know that he was a Lannister. But Kevan remembered a time when his eye had a blue twin and he smiled easily. Now a black eyepatch hung around his left eye and the times he smiled were rare.

"But it is a question that needs to be asked and answered," he said back. A wind blew down the path and through their short hair. While Kevan knew that his hair was short because he was losing it slowly, Tytos's was short because he had the barber cut it like that. What locks he had bristled like tiny daggers. There was semblance of order in them as they were pushed forward but that was it.

"Why are you asking? You have a father and a family that loves you." His eyes looked out at the rest of the group to the front where Tywin rode. No one rode beside or in front of the Lion of the Rock. Even his own family rode in the column. Genna and her family were somewhere behind him. His wife and children were close to her and he saw Tyrion off near the edge.

"But you still haven't answered the question, uncle," Tytos told him.

"Tytos, don't think of it."

"I can't help but think of it." His eye looked toward the horizon and the setting sun where his grandfather was riding to. "I feel like I must do something to prove myself a Lannister."

"Don't think of it. You are only ten years old. You have the rest of your life to prove yourself." He placed a comforting hand on the lad's shoulder.

"It's not to myself that I have to prove." His one eye stayed on his grandfather.

Kevan followed his gaze and instantly understood. If there had been meetings between grandfather and grandson that didn't require the entirety of the family, it was out of his sight. He was not slow as people were wont to think. He knew that the family was divided on Tytos. Some would gladly call him Hill but the others, including Tyrion, himself, Genna, and Gerion (before he had left) would gladly call him Lannister. The only one who had not said anything was Tywin.

"Leave it be, Tytos," he said once more. "Let's turn to more pleasant topics. How has your training coming?"

His demeanor changed into a more pleasant one. "It's coming along well. Sandor had been teaching me how to fight with and without a shield and with many different weapons too."

"That is good." It was all he could do to not say it with a strained smile. Personally, he never approved of the Hound teaching Tytos. What that man did was simply barbaric. But it was allowed because Tytos had asked and Kevan's brother allowed it. That didn't make anything he did less barbaric. The first time Tytos trained, everyone had come to watch, only to see the Hound beat him into the ground again and again, telling him each time to get back up. But to Tytos's credit, he did just that.

They continued riding for another hour or so before the call to stop and make camp was finally given at a little glade beside the road. Kevan brought his horse to a halt and climbed down from the saddle. He groaned as his feet touched the rocky soil, his back and legs feeling sore. He was getting old. But even though he accepted that fact, he couldn't let stop him. Tytos's question had come to him now and he wanted to know. Fortunately, he could have it answered.

He walked through the camp, idly observing how quickly it was being set up. He wasn't surprised by it, his brother demanded efficiency from those who served him. He saw that Tyrion was already sitting at a fire, a book borrowed from Ashemark in his hands. Tytos usually sat beside him but he must've been out attending to the Hound.

When he found Tywin's tent already set up, he walked in without bothering to announce himself or asking for permission to enter. He had been his brother's faithful follower for so long; he knew he could enter without warning. He found his brother sitting at his desk, going over some papers. His eyes barely flicked upwards to see him. "Kevan," he said shortly in greeting.

"Tywin, might we speak on the matter of your grandson?" he asked. When faced with a question to his brother, he never danced around it. He owed Tywin that much consideration.

"What about him?" his brother asked, still looking over the papers.

A sudden roar echoed through the camp, followed by a shout of surprise and a scream. Quickly, a virtual cacophony of voices began to ring out but the one that overrode them all was Tyrion shouting "TYTOS!" in horror.

Kevan only gave his brother one look before he turned and ran out of the tent, following the direction of the voices and men running towards the back of the camp. He cursed himself for not having a sword on his belt. He was getting old but not senile! As he and the others ran, the bodies began to thicken into a crowd near the edge of the glade and he could hear some of the voices at the front, shouting "Kill it! Kill it!" "Get the lord!" and "Push it back!" The shouts began to die down almost as soon as they had sprung up but that didn't make him stop.

He pushed his way through the crowd to the front and saw his grandnephew laying on the ground, his father cradling his head. His left shoulder was a mess of blood and his right hand was clenched into a fist. The blood from his shoulder would not stop leaking out. "What happened?" Kevan demanded, looking around at the crowd.

"A lion, a fucking lion," one of the men breathed out in a voice that was equal parts shocked and awed. "It came outta nowhere, leapt down on the little lording, started clawing at him! I think he tried fighting."

"You think?"

"I don't know, milord. All I saw was the lion!" He gripped the axe in his hand tighter.

"Someone get the fucking maester!" Tyrion screamed.

"You heard my nephew! Go!" he shouted. A few men in the crowd turned and ran. "What was he doing out here? Where's the Hound!?"

As if to answer him, the Hound pushed through the crowds when they would not part for him. He looked down at Tytos. "What the fuck happened here?" he growled loudly.

"What was Tytos doing out here in the first place, Hound," Kevan demanded.

"Sent him to get me firewood," he answered. "What happened?"

"It was a lion," another man said from where he stood, leaning on his spear. "We tried to kill it but it took all of us to push it away from him. It fled. We would have gone after it but the young lord—"

"What's in his hand?" All eyes fell onto Tytos's right hand. Tyrion reached out and opened it. Resting in his son's palm was a single bloody tooth, too long and sharp to be from any human.

"Seven hells," swore one of the men. "He knocked out a tooth from the lion!"

"He fought back!" someone shouted as the maester came through the crowd and knelt down beside Tytos. With a start, Kevan recognized the man to be Tywin's personal maester.

The Hound looked pleased. "Of course he fucking fought back," he said to them all. "I'm the one who taught him to do that!"

 **Catelyn**

(Location: Riverrun)

Her most vivid memory of Tytos Lannister was not of how he rode beside his father into Winterfell, it was not the look of surprise on his face or how his hand reached for the sword at his belt when she had his father arrested at the inn at the crossroads, it was not his single eye watching them all as they made their way to the Eyrie, nor was the absolute rage he showed when Lysa ordered his father to the black cells. No, what she remembered most well of Tyrion Lannister's son was how he freed himself and his father from the Eyrie.

It started when the Imp had said he wished to confess and so Lysa had summoned her lords to the High Hall of the Arryns. While she sat on the lesser throne and Catelyn stood beside her, Tyrion Lannister, her son's would be murderer, was escorted in. The lords of the Vale surrounded the hall, so did her own men, and he was alone. Not even his own son was there. It would go to show how disliked the Imp was.

"You wish to confess your crimes?" Lysa asked him. She sat alone on the throne, her son not in the hall.

"Yes, my lady. I do, my lady," he replied. His hands were manacled close to one another and bound by chains.

She looked at her sister smugly. "The sky cells always break them. The gods can see them there, and there is no darkness to hide in."

"He does not look broken to me," Catelyn said back.

But she had already turned to look down at the Imp again. "Say what you will."

"Where to begin?" he asked. "I am a vile little man, I confess it. My crimes and sins are beyond counting, my lords and ladies. I have lain with whores, not once but hundreds of times. I have wished my own lord father dead, and my sister, our gracious queen, as well." He cast his eyes downward at the Moon Door. "You want specifics, I suppose? When I was seven, I saw a servant girl bathing in the river. I stole her robe and she was forced to return to the castle naked and in tears. If I close my eyes, I can still see her tits bouncing."

Noble men and women alike gasped in horror at what he was saying but he was not done. "When I was ten, I stuffed my uncle's boots with goat shit. When confronted with my crime, I blamed a squire. Poor boy was flogged and I escaped justice. When I was twelve, I milked my eel into a pot of turtle stew. I flogged the one-eyed snake. I skinned my sausage. I made the bald man cry into the turtle stew, which I do believe my sister ate; at least I hoped she did." The gasps of laughter were quickly becoming chuckles of laughter as he kept going. "I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb—"

" _Silence_!" shouted Lysa, stopping him from continuing. "What do you imagine you are doing, dwarf?" she demanded, her face a bright pink of anger.

"Why, confessing my crimes, my lady," he answered glibly.

Catelyn spoke up then. "Lord Tyrion, you are accused of sending a hired knife to slay my son Bran in his bed, and of conspiring to murder my sister's husband, Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King."

"Oh, I'm very sorry. Those crimes I cannot confess, I fear. I know nothing of any murders."

"You've had your little joke," Lysa spat at him. "I trust you enjoyed it. Mord, take him back to the dungeon but this time find a smaller cell with a steeper floor," she commanded. The keeper of the sky cells, an ugly man, stepped forward.

"Is _this_ how justice is done in the Vale?" the Imp shouted, making all in the hall go still. "Does honor stop at the Bloody Gate? You accuse me of crimes, I deny them, so you throw me into an open cell to freeze and starve and worry about the state of my son." He looked around the room. "Where is the king's justice? I am accused and demand a trail."

Whispering broke out in the hall, Lysa and Catelyn both saw it. The Imp had them and they would be forced to reply. "If you are tried and found guilty, then by the king's own laws you will pay for your life," Lysa told him.

"I understand the law."

She smiled at him. "We keep no headsmen in the Eyrie, my lord of Lannister. Life is more elegant here. Open the Moon Door!" she commanded. Two men off to the side reached for the wheel in the wall, pulling down on the levers.

"Sister, I think this unwise," Catelyn tried telling her. But the bronze door bearing the sigil of House Arryn in the floor pulled back, revealing the forests and mountains of the Vale. The wind blew strong through the hole, making the hall echo with its shriek.

"You want a trial, my lord of Lannister," Lysa told the Imp. "Very well, a trial you shall—"

"There will be no trial," the voice of Tytos Lannister rang out from the door to the hall. Everyone turned to see him standing there with one arm holding Jon Arryn's son tight and pressing his dagger against the boy's throat with the other. The patch covering his left eye was missing so all could see the hole where nothing but darkness resided. "This farce has gone on long enough."

"Mother!" yowled Robert Arryn, wiggling in his captor's grip.

Tytos simply pressed his dagger down on his throat, making him go still. "I told you to be silent. Or do you wish to look upon me again?" Catelyn's nephew shook his head so quick, she was afraid it would come off. "Good."

"My Sweetrobin!" screamed Lysa as Tyrion's son walked forward to his father. She looked around the hall, at all the lords and men bearing steel. "Rescue your lord!" she commanded.

"If anyone makes a move towards me, the son of Jon Arryn dies!" Tytos barked out, stopping all the men who were ready to take that step.

"What is the meaning of this?" Catelyn asked, looking down at the boy. His hand was steady and his grip was firm.

"I believe this would be called a renegotiation," the Imp remarked calmly as he stood by his son.

"It is that," the younger Lannister agreed. He looked up at Catelyn and her sister. "Here are our terms: my father and I will leave the Eyrie, unharmed and with all of our personal items. I will keep the little lord here," he jerked around Robert, "to ensure goodwill. Once we're past the Bloody Gate, I will release him."

"Craven!" shouted Albar Royce. "You are a craven, ser." Others took up the call and the hall began to echo with shouts of "Craven!"

"I'm no ser. I am a son who loves his father," he said shortly, keeping his eyes up on the throne. "We are leaving, my Lady Arryn. Should you feel the need to try and rescue your son before we are out past the Bloody Gate, he will either receive a red smile on his throat or learn how to fly. Now, give us what is ours."

Catelyn saw that her sister looked equal parts terrified for her son and angry at losing the Lannisters. She chose to spoke. "Have you no honor that you would threaten a child before his mother?"

He turned his head slightly to look at her, his green eye blazing angrily that it looked like wildfire. "The woman who arrested my father on false charges, dragged the both of us to the Vale and the Eyrie, did nothing while he was sent to the sky cells, and allowed this mockery of a confession to go through should not speak of honor. Lannisters pay our debts, Lady Stark. I am simply doing that." He tapped the dagger lightly against her nephew's throat.

In the end, Lysa was much too afraid for her son, something Catelyn could understand. The two Lannisters were allowed to descend from the Eyrie and walked out past the Bloody Gate with no harm coming to them. Surprisingly, Tytos proved to his word. Once they were out past the Bloody Gate, the boy his sister had called "Sweetrobin" was released and fled screaming back into castle.

That was what played through her mind as she followed her son in their walk. What was laid out before him was not good. Robett Glover had attacked Duskendale with Ser Helman Tallhart only to be caught and defeated thoroughly by Lord Randyll Tarly. Ser Tallhart was dead and the Lannister now had Galbart Glover. The Reach was now allied with the Iron Throne.

"I should have traded the Kingslayer for Sansa when you first urged it," Robb said to her. "If I'd offered to wed to the Knight of Flowers, the Tyrells might be ours instead of Joffrey's. I should have thought of that."

"Your mind was on your battles, and rightly so. Even a king cannot think of everything," she told him.

"Battles," he muttered. "I have won every battle, yet somehow I'm losing the war." He looked up to the sky. "The ironmen hold Winterfell, and Moat Cailin too. Father's dead, and Bran and Rickon, maybe Arya. And now your father too."

"My father has been dying for a long time. You could not have changed that." He had been there when they sent her father to his grave on the river. That had been enough for her. "You have made mistakes, Robb, but what king has not? Ned would have been proud of you."

"Mother, there is something you must know."

"…Is it the Kingslayer?" she asked after her heart had skipped a beat. Her mind was on Brienne and the mission she gave her.

"No. It's Sansa." He paused in silence, like he was trying to decide if he should tell her what he knew. "We received a raven from King's Landing, addressed to me and to you. It was from Tytos Lannister."

A cold feeling washed over her. "The Imp's son," she whispered.

"Yes. He's written that he is now Sansa's husband. But he's written of something far worse."

"What? What could be worse than his father breaking what he swore in front of gods and men?"

"Joffery has had her beaten for every one of my victories. Tytos writes that she will be safe with him from the king. But he also writes that he has Ice and will keep for her unless I bend the knee."

They beat her. They had beaten Sansa for every victory Robb had won. Now the Imp's son had claimed that she would be safe. "He must be lying," she told him. "He must be. His father lied, why shouldn't the son?"

"Mother, I have seen him in the yard against the Hound at Winterfell. He was beaten and knocked down time and time again but he got back up each time. If he says that he will protect Sansa then perhaps the safest place for her in King's Landing would be by his side." There was a measure of respect in his voice when he spoke of the boy, something she did not think he would ever give.

"But why would anyone do this to her?" she asked. Words were pretty on a page but all she could remember was what he did at the Eyrie.

"For Winterfell," her son replied instantly. "With Bran and Rickon dead, Sansa is my heir. If anything should happen to me…"

She could see where he was going with his words. She stopped him before he could actually say it. "Nothing will happen to you. _Nothing_. I could not stand it. They took Ned, and your sweet brothers. Sansa is married, Arya is lost, my father's dead…if anything befell you, I would go mad, Robb. You are all I have left. You are all the _North_ has left," she told him.

"I am not dead yet, Mother." He sighed. "For now, all we can do is trust in Tytos's word that he will protect her."

"You would trust the word of a Lannister?"

"I would trust the word of the man who defended his own father against our wolves while in Winterfell and did not demand their skins for the attempt. He kicked away Grey Wind and held down both Summer and Shaggydog by their throats, yet he released when asked. If Sansa has truly been treated like that by the Lannisters, I would trust him to protect her until we come and get her."

 **Margaery**

(Location: King's Landing)

When she was married to Joffrey's brother after his death, she would have thought that it would be an easier time to win him over. That is, until she watched Tommen's first lesson with his cousin, where Tytos Lannister beat until he was bleeding and then some more. Loras had tried to stop it but only got a broken nose for it. That was when she realized that it would be harder than she thought.

That did not mean she did not try. She often invited the king to sup with her family so they might know one another as well as inviting him for other events but he always refused, saying that Tytos was teaching him. She had offered to have Loras teach him in the knightly arts but he took one look at her brother and his broken nose and started snickering. It did not help that his cousin was near and seemed amused. But her grandmother did not raise and teach someone who would give up after a few attempts. Grandmother Olenna might've left the capital but she reminded Margaery of what she had to do. She had a plan.

It came to fruition soon enough. She, her brother, and her cousins had set up a small picnic inside the Red Keep. It was positioned just so it was in the way of the king when he was done with the day's training. Her cousins sat around, talking of gallant and noble knights, songs they've heard, and of men they wish to remain. Loras stood nearby, watching everything. He wore the armor of the Kingsguard, something that she felt belong on his shoulders. It made him look handsomer, if not for the fact that his nose was still bent.

When her husband and his cousin came in, she acted surprised to see them. "Your Grace! Lord Tytos! What fortune meeting you here. Come, sit with us and share our food," she offered, swinging her arm to her family sitting around tables in the little garden.

The first thing that the king did was look at his cousin. It was a brief look but it was enough to be telling to her. "We can stay but I cannot eat your food, my lady," he said to her. The two of them walked towards the group. The king took his seat before his cousin did.

"And why is that?" she asked.

"I'm starving him," his cousin told her. He might've been a handsome person, much like the other Lannisters she had seen, if it wasn't for the eyepatch he wore. She knew that he must but it still took away from him. "All food made in the Red Keep has been forbidden to him."

The picnic's life and festivity faded when everyone heard those words. "Why?" she asked, looking at him like he had gone mad.

"To teach him hunger and pain," he answered. He relaxed into the back of his chair, splaying his legs out. King Tommen tried to mimic him but it did not have the same effect. His feet just dangled in the air.

She knew of the pain from the first practice session. But the hunger was something she had not expected. "How can you do something like that to your king?" she asked, sounding quite horrified at the prospect.

"Easily," he replied. "He's not my king, he's my student."

"You are cruel," Loras declared, fixing the one eyed Lannister with a glare. "You are cruel to do this to him just as you are cruel to beat him every day. This is no knightly training."

"You would be right," he replied. "I am not training Tommen to be a knight; I'm training him to be a warrior. He should know what it's like to be hungry, to not have food in your stomach, to have it eating away at your attention. And it's to make him some weight." He cast a look at Tommen, who still looked plump.

"That's barbaric!" Elinor protested loudly. Margaery's cousin looked horrified at what he was describing. She wasn't the only one; in fact the only two who didn't look horrified were the king and his cousin.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes barbarism has its usefulness. The Hound taught me in the same way." He looked up at the sun for a moment before turning his attention to the king. "Tommen, attend your lesson with the maester. When it's done, come find me and tell me what you've learned."

"Okay, Tytos." Tommen stood up from his chair. "Good day, my ladies, Ser Loras." He walked out of the little garden before Margaery could even give him the gift of three kittens. They were waiting in a basket beneath the table.

When he was gone from sight, everyone turned their eyes to the Lannister who remained behind. Megga was the first to open her mouth. "Ser Tytos—"

"I'm not a knight," he cut her off coldly before she could finish.

"I am," Loras said. He walked over to his chair and stood before him. "What you are doing is cruel to King Tommen. I am of his Kingsguard and I will not allow it. You shall cease this torture immediately!" The Lannister ignored him, rolling his head back to look up at the sky again. "Have you gone deaf?"

"Tyrell, if you don't have anything to say, then don't speak at all," he finally said, rather rudely. He looked at Margaery rather than paying attention to the expression on her brother's face. "My lady, you're supposed to be the smart one. Tell me, what am I trying to teach Tommen by starving him?"

She looked at, a mask of confused innocence on her face. "My lord, you have already said what you are teaching him, crude as it may be."

"That's the obvious. What else am I teaching him?" he asked. She held her silence, choosing to wait for the answer. He would give it to her. All she had to do was wait for him to give it. It turned out that she didn't have to wait for long. "And you're the smart one," he said with a resigned sigh. She didn't get angry, she just smiled in return. "I'm teaching him how to adapt and think for himself. Sandor did the same thing to me at the Rock, so I took up fishing."

"Fishing?" repeated Elinor.

"Fishing," he said again. He fell into silence. Before anyone could say anything, there was the faint sound of someone running away.

"What was that?" Loras said, his hand going to his sword.

"That would be the sound of the king running away so he can try what I just gave him," Tytos remarked as he stood up from the chair. There was an amused smile on his lips but one that was tempered by a gentleness she did not expect him to have. "It helps to give them a hint every once a while."

" _He did not tell me the answer for my sake, but for his,"_ Margaery realized. He knew that Tommen had hung back out of sight that he could eavesdrop. "How could you have known that he was there?" she found herself asking him.

"His lesson with the maester isn't for another half hour," he replied before leaving the same he came. They all watched him leave and Margaery had a feeling that she might've underestimated the son of the Imp.

 **Oberyn**

(Location: Red Keep)

He had been asked to join the royal family for a private dinner because of his nephew's betrothal to Myrcella, so naturally he brought Ellaria along with him. He quite enjoyed the look on Mace Tyrell's face when they entered, one of abject horror. He always did enjoy tweaking the Fat Flower like so. It was his way of getting revenge for Willas for what happened all those years ago.

Both and his paramour sat and looked at the people sitting at the table in the Queen's Ballroom. The Lannisters were seated on one side while the Tyrells were seated on the other. What was truly interesting to note that while the Little Queen sat on King Tommen's left, it was not his mother or grandfather who sat on his right. Rather, it was his cousin, Tytos Lannister, and his new wife, Sansa. The boy's father sat next to them and then came the king's mother and grandfather.

It was rather amusing to watch them all. The Tyrells and Lannisters tried to fight for control over the king, but the one-eyed lion would have none of it, having taken over his training in both the physical and mental. He had seen the first day of training along with the majority of the Tyrells and the Lannisters. It had been a brutal thing to watch but he would admit that the lesson being taught was an effective one. So was the lesson of learning how to think for oneself. It seemed that the boy king was learning that one rather well as he seemed to look a little less plump and there was only fish on his plate.

As the dinner went on, the talk around the table turned to the realm and Oberyn watched them all talk with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "This silence from the Vale cannot go on," Lord Tywin declared.

His daughter nodded in agreement. "Lady Arryn and her son must come to King's Landing and swear their loyalty to King Tommen," she said.

"And how exactly do you plan on having them do that, dear sister?" the Imp asked her after taking a sip from his cup. "The Arryns are holed up quite nicely in the Eyrie. I do not think that the Lady Lysa will come down for anything."

"She cannot disobey a royal command!" Mace Tyrell protested. "She must come down with her son and swear her loyalty."

"Tell me, my lord, do you have a way of getting down from there?" Oberyn asked him. "You must tell us what it is." The Fat Flower spluttered and grasped for words. It amused him.

"He doesn't, but I do," Tytos Lannister announced. As all eyes turned to him, he turned to the king. "Tommen, have the Grand Maester write to Lord Robert Arryn. Him, not his mother," he repeated firmly.

The king nodded. "What should I have him write?"

"Command him to come down to King's Landing, or I shall come back up to the Eyrie and make him look at me again." It was a strange thing to say and it earned the respective looks at him. He didn't seem to care.

The only one who didn't have the look was his father, who almost snorted into his drink. If he was in lighter company, he might've started laughing. "Why would that make Lord Arryn come down from the Eyrie, my lord?" his wife asked him. Sansa Stark was truly a beautiful woman. Oberyn had seen Ellaria looking at her when she passed. Of course, he had too.

"On the day of Father's 'trial,'" he said that word with such disgust, "I went to his room, took off my eyepatch, and woke him up with a slap to the face and a dagger at his throat. Then I took him the high hall to free Father and brought him down to the Bloody Gate to ensure that we left unmolested."

The way he spoke of what he did, he made it sound like it was a trivial story, something that should be barely remembered, if at all. But Oberyn had seen what lay beneath that eyepatch. The hole was surrounded by white scarring and the scars themselves seemed to look like maggots had feasted on his flesh while he was still alive. But since the trial and the truth revealed, he knew that it was just sloppy work on King Joffrey's part.

"You did that to a boy?" Lady Leonette asked him with a voice in shock bordering horrified. "How could you? That was not honorable or chivalrous of you!"

"I know. It's a good thing I'm not a knight. I did what I had to do to get my father and myself out of the Eyrie other than the Moon Door." He cast a look down the table at his aunt and grandfather. Everyone saw it. No one said anything. Oberyn could see the distaste the boy had for Lord Tywin and Lady Cersei. He had no doubt that if the Imp had died on the Eyrie, they would not have been mournful.

The dinner continued with other menial talk of politics. Oberyn found himself growing bored of it. For a moment, he considered ravishing Ellaria right there on the table, just to see how the others would react. The Tyrells would be shocked and the Lannisters would probably look horrified before looking down their noses at him in disgust. It was an amusing thought but a brief one.

As the course changed, one of the keep's maesters came hurrying in. There was a scroll in his hand and he walked quickly to the young lion. "My lord, this just arrived from Castle Black for you."

He took it and broke the seal. The attention stayed focused on him as he read the letter quietly. When he was done, all he said was "Huh."

"What is it, Tytos?" his father asked him.

"A problem for my lord grandfather," he answered, letting the scroll roll back before putting it down on the table. "It seems that my second son will not inherit Winterfell."

Sansa gasped audibly. "Jon," she whispered. Oberyn had heard of the one stain on Ned Stark's honor, that of his bastard son. But while others might deride him for it, the Red Viper respected him instead. He claimed his child and brought him to his home and raised him along with his trueborn children. How could he not respect the man for that when he had done the same for his own daughters?

Tywin Lannister frowned even more while the dowager queen looked furious, which marred her beauty. "That bastard dares to steal Winterfell from its rightful heir? This must be answered with steel!" It seemed that the rest of the Lannisters and the Tyrells, except for her brother and nephew, agreed with her sentiment even though they said nothing.

"Actually, Aunt Cersei, you would be wrong," Tytos told her. He tapped the letter with a finger. "This is a letter from Jon but it is written from the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, not from the Stark of Winterfell. He writes to me in being Sansa's husband." He looked over at his wife. "Your little brother has been found. He's at Castle Black under his protection."

"My…my little brother?" she repeated. Hope was naked in her voice but one look from Cersei quashed that hope. "That can't be. Theon…he killed them. He killed them both."

"One of them survived and ended up on Skagos. Stannis's man found him and brought him back to the Wall. Your bastard brother sent ravens to all lords of the North, proclaiming him Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North who will stay at Castle Black until it is either safe to returned to his home. He's also announced a betrothal between his brother and Stannis's daughter, Lady Shireen."

"This…It could be a lie!" Mace Tyrell protested. "The boy could be lying so he can take control of the North and raise it in rebellion against King Tommen! This must be answered!"

The only thing the young Lannister did was look at his wife. "My lady, the Lord Commander names your brother as Rickon Stark. He has your coloring in hair and eyes but he also says that there is a direwolf accompanying him. He does not describe it but names it as Shaggydog."

The Knight of Flowers scoffed from where he stood. "Who names a pet Shaggydog?" he asked aloud, derision obvious on his face.

"A three year old boy," Sansa said in reply. "A three year old boy who got a direwolf pup with black fur and green eyes. By the old gods, my little brother is alive." Tears appeared in her eyes and she began to cry happily. "He's alive."

"That may be, but he is still a threat," Lord Tywin decided. "He can rise to be a challenge to the Iron Throne. And it is clear that this bastard must be taken care lest he claims Winterfell for himself or tries to raise an army to attack the south."

"He is the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch," Kevan Lannister said to his brother. "They vow to take no part in the Seven Kingdoms."

"He has already broken that vow by holding Rickon Stark. He must be dealt with." He looked over at the other side of the table. "Lord Tyrell…"

"Say no more, my lord," the Fat Flower said, puffing himself up with his own importance. "I shall assemble a force of two thousand men and make my way to Castle Black to arrest the traitor bastard and take the would-be Stark into custody."

"We thank you, my lord," Cersei said, her voice sweet. "May the gods grant you the strength and the justice to stop this traitor before he has a chance to act." He puffed up even further and stood up from his chair. Oberyn rolled his eyes at the sight. Willas's father was always easily driven by his ego.

"Lord Tyrell, have you met Jon Snow?" Tytos asked him suddenly. The man was taken by surprise because of the question and deflated a little. "It's a simple question, my lord. Have you met Jon Snow?" He still did not answer, so the Lannister turned to look at the table. "With the exception of my father, my wife, and myself, has anyone at this table truly met Jon Snow?"

There was silence at the table. Not even the king or his mother spoke. "Is there a point to this, young Tytos?" Oberyn asked.

"Yes, there is, Prince Oberyn. I've met Jon Snow at Winterfell. I sparred with him to a tie. I traveled up to the Wall with him when he went to join the Night's Watch alongside my father. He might not have the name, but Jon Snow is a Stark to his bones. If he has sworn the oath of the Night's Watch, he will not break it."

"Oath or not, he is a traitor who must face justice," Mace Tyrell declared with his usual pompousness.

He just fixed the older man with a look that spoke volumes of what he thought about the man's intelligence. He picked up the scroll and handed it off to the king. "Read that, Tommen, and tell me where it proclaims Jon Snow to be a traitor," he said.

The boy king took the scroll. His little face was scrunched up in concentration, something Oberyn have seen on all of his daughters when they were young and reading. "It doesn't," he finally said. "It says that Rickon is the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"Why is that not treasonous?" his cousin asked, quick as a whip cracking in the air.

"If he wanted to be treasonous, Lord Snow would have named him the King of the North."

"He is a traitor," Lord Tywin declared. "He declares as much when he announces that his half-brother will marry the daughter of Stannis Baratheon. He has thrown his lot behind that traitor."

"I would say that is more along the lines of securing the future of House," his grandson countered. "And if we want talk about traitors, then we are all guilty of that, with the exception of Prince Oberyn."

All eyes fell onto him, eyes full of shock, outrage, fury, and three pairs of curiosity (Oberyn knew he had one and could see his paramour and the boy's father were the same). "How dare you say that?" Loras Tyrell said, his face morphing into an angry and insulted look.

"Easily," he replied. "We are all traitors because only the Dornish stayed loyal to the dragon to the end of the Rebellion." He turned his attention back to the meal, the king, and his wife, ignoring the looks being sent at him, even the one of respect Oberyn had on his face.

 **Walder**

(Location: the Twins)

"Lord Grandfather, Lord Lannister is at the gates," one of his by-blows told him, creeping closer to his chair. His eyes were respectful, nervous, but also focused on his chair.

He ignored the look like he always had with his progeny. The Riverlands were dangerous for Freys now, so he called them all back and that made the Twins stuffed to full. But he still paid them not much attention. "Heh, so the Lion of the Rock has finally come to grace me with his presence, has he?" he asked as he stared at the hall full of his family. It was the midday meal and he watched over them like a proper lord should. Oh, he was well aware of all their scheming and planning. It amused him. But now this news of Tywin Lannister had come to the Twins, well that was interesting.

"Uh, no Lord Grandfather," the by-blow said, looking down at the floor. "It's not Lord Tywin. It's his grandson, Lord Tytos Lannister."

His amusement soured at the prospect. "So the old bastard's too proud to see me and instead sends the cub? Bloody Tywin Lannister, so high and mighty that his shit doesn't stink," he groused. Yet he always remembered who it was that rewarded him after the Red Wedding. He looked at the by-blow. "What are you standing around here for? Go tell the men at the gate to open up and let the little lion in."

"Yes, Lord Grandfather." He ran away quick. He must've been one of his bastards' get if he ran so fast.

The cub walked into his hall, still armored and carrying weapons but no shield. His single eye watched him and he found it amusing. "Welcome, young Lannister, to my castle. Have you come with words from your grandfather?" he asked.

"No, I haven't," the cub replied as his men walked into the hall, just as fully armored and armed. "I will have the northern prisoners transferred into my custody."

"I thought that you did not come with your grandfather's words."

"I didn't. These are mine."

The Lord of the Crossing gripped the arms of his chair and frowned severely down at the little cub. "You are brave to come into my home and demand something of me, little boy. Brave, or perhaps foolish," he remarked. His house began to slowly rise from their seats at his tone.

"I am not demanding anything of you, Lord Frey. I will have the prisoners in my custody."

Anger was blooming inside him. Damn the cub for his insolence and arrogance. Did he think that because he was a Lannister that he was better than him? He was just an arrogant brat who didn't know to respect his elders. "And why should I allow that to happen?"

He did not answer right away, instead choosing to look around the room slowly, taking in everything he saw. Some of his house flinched or looked away when they saw that one eye looking at them. They would be the weak ones in his family; the gods knew he had enough of them. The cub finally looked back at him. "My wife asked me for a wedding boon," he said.

The anger was still blooming but he hid it with a cackle. "Heh, your wife, the Lady Sansa," he said. "I've met her mother and brother, traitors that they were."

"We in the capital know of this, my lord, as does my lady wife. That is why she asked this boon of me."

"And we must listen to what our wives say to us, don't we?" He chuckled at his own words. His eyes travelled over to where his wife sat at his high table. "Of course, if I had listened to my first wife's words, I wouldn't have this fresh one now. Tell him, my dear wife. Are you happy here?"

She looked at him and then at the cub. "I am very happy here. I am honored to be Lord Frey's wife."

"Of course you are," he said to her. Then he turned his one eye back to him. "The prisoners, my Lord Frey," he said.

"Oh very well, I will give them to you." He looked at his family and found his steward. "Lothar, go and fetch the prisoners."

"Yes, Father," Lame Lother said, standing up and limping away.

"Cousin Devan, go with him," the cub said. One of the men, a brutish looking person whose long golden locks marked him as a Lannister, stepped out from the crowd and followed his son.

"So you're married to Sansa Stark, heh, or is it Sansa Lannister now?" Walder Frey asked the son of the Imp. "You know, my son Elmar was betrothed to her sister. Elmar, where are you?" he shouted into the hall.

"I'm here, Father," the boy said, standing up from his chair. He was right next to the cub and looked up to him when he spoke. "I was indeed betrothed to Arya Stark, before her brother broke his oath."

The cub did not say anything. "Will you have some of my bread and salt, young Lannister?" the Lord of the Crossing asked him.

"No, I won't. Unlike you, Lord Frey, I respect and honor the laws of hospitality," he said in reply. "Refusing your bread and salt allows me and my men to do this." He pulled out the axe looped in his belt and lopped off Elmer's head with a single swing. As he and his house watched the head fly up into the air, the lions in the hall drew their weapons and began attacking.

Walder Frey sat in his chair and watched in shock and horror as his house was slaughtered. Blood flew and his family screamed. The lions were methodical in their work, slaying all who stood in their path. Men, women, children, it didn't matter to them. They killed everyone who was a Frey. _"Where are the guards?"_ he thought to himself as the slaughter continued. _"Where are the men-at-arms? Where is the rest of my house?!"_ He remembered that they were at the other castle. Surely they must've heard the noise and would come riding to the aide. All he would have to do was wait for them. He sat in his chair, waiting for reinforcements.

But as the massacre went on, there were no men coming into the hall to attack the lions. _"Where are they?"_ He looked around to see someone fighting for him. But instead, he found himself staring at the cub. He was just standing there, still holding the bloody axe and staring at him. That single green eye bored into him, holding him in place.

"It's done, my lord," one of the knights said to the cub. The screams had stopped and blood was everywhere.

"Good," said the cub.

"Don't think you will get away from this," Walder told him. "The other castle will have heard. They are coming and will put you all to the sword, Tywin Lannister's grandson or not."

"They won't, not since they invited my father and half of our forces into the other castle," he said. He looked at the men around him. "Tear the castle down, brick by brick. I want only the bridge to remain."

" _No!"_ the Lord of the Crossing silently screamed. They could not do this!

"Take him to the edge of the camp. I'll handle it from there."

He barely remembered being taken from his chair and carried from his castle. He didn't even being jeered or laughed at as he was brought through the Lannister camp. What he did remember next the sharp jarring pain flashing through his body, which also told him that he had a broken bone. He looked around, seeing the forest near the Twins. There was a growling sound coming from in front of him. He looked and saw a giant wolf standing there. It had grey fur, gold eyes, and bared teeth. "No, that's impossible," he said as he stared at the wolf. He knew it from before. "You were killed!"

"That's not Robb Stark's wolf," said the cub from behind him. "According to my wife, it's her sister's. She had been following us through the Riverlands. I think that she knew what would happen."

His breeches turned wet and a rank smell filled his nose. It was the smell of his own fear. Everything was coming down around him. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "I helped your grandfather get rid of his enemies. I served the Iron Throne faithfully. I was rewarded. Why is your grandfather doing this to me?"

"He isn't. I come with my own words."

"Then why?"

"I already told you. My wife asked a boon of me." Walder Frey heard him leave but couldn't look away from the wolf stalking its way to him. When it struck, he couldn't even scream.

 **Daenerys**

(Location: King's Landing)

She waited before the gate astride her silver with her bloodriders, Ser Barristan, Prince Oberyn, and her shadow at her side. Tywin Lannister and his daughter, Cersei stood on the ground with their hands manacled. The former queen looked at her with absolute hatred and loathing burning in her eyes while her father stood there quietly, revealing nothing. Across the city sat a massive army of crimson and gold. The Lannister army had come.

Nervousness clutched at her belly but she did not let show on her face. She knew that the old lion would see it and take notice. She would not allow that. This was the last army she would have to fight and yet, she knew that this would be the hardest one. When her army had struck the city and attacked it, the boy king who they named and fought for was nowhere to be found. It was only after learning of where he went that she had heard of Tytos Lannister, the grandson of Tywin.

"Tell me again, Ser Barristan, of Tytos Lannister," she commanded her Queensguard knight. "I would hear his character before I meet with him."

"It has been a long time since I have seen him, my queen. A good five years," he replied. "But what I remember of the lad was that he preferred to watch in silence before acting, something that he had when I first met him as a child before…the incident that lost him an eye. He was trained by the Hound, Sandor Clegane, and followed him in refusing knighthood."

"Clegane, the murderer of Queen Elia and Princess Rhaenys," she said, mostly to herself. Long had she thought that her nephew, Prince Aegon, had also been killed by the Mountain, only to find that Varys had gotten him away to safety and had him raised by loyalists. They had met in Dorne but now he was dead. He died in the siege of the city itself.

"Aye, the same name but a different person, your Grace," Prince Oberyn told her. "That would be Gregor Clegane, the Hound's older brother. Ironically, the Hound's student was the one to finally fell him." There was an amused smile on his lips as he spoke.

"So he has no weakness then?"

"His father," her shadow, Arya Stark, said quietly. "He loves his father." Daenerys was surprised still sometimes by how she had a Stark in her company. She had come to Braavos to pledge to the Sealord that she was there to have peace, not war. When she left, a woman with a thin sword followed her, swearing her sword to her. It had taken two months and her bear, Ser Jorah, to discover that she was the daughter of Eddard Stark. Daenerys was tempted to kill her right then and there, but stopped when she heard how she wanted vengeance for her slain family. So instead, she kept the girl close to her side and she became her shadow.

"Lady Stark is right," Ser Barristan agreed. Even when Arya had told him time and time again that she wasn't a lady, he still called her that. "If there was one thing that could rouse Tytos Lannister's anger, it was an insult to his father. But I still beg you to be wary, your Grace. I have heard that Tytos has the mind of his father, the arm of his uncle, and the ruthlessness of his grandfather. He has had these five years to make them sharper."

"Yes, yes, good ser, we have heard 'the Lion's Crossing' before," Oberyn said to him. "I dare say that it eclipses the 'Rains of Castamere.'" Dany didn't need to look back to know he was looking at Tywin Lannister when he said that.

She had the song too and had found it to be chilling. Yet for such a brutal person, she had yet to see him in the field of battle. When she had landed in Dorne and sent ravens to all the lords proclaiming who she was and her intention, his only move back was not to send an army to stop her, as they had discovered when going through the Hand's letters, but rather to send a proclamation annulling King Tommen's marriage to Margaery Tyrell, citing there was no consummation, his youth and her previous marriages as grounds for it.

" _Khaleesi_ , riders approach," Rakharo declared, his hand going to his arakh. "I see three."

"I see them too. They carry the Lannister banner," Ser Barristan said. "They are Tytos Lannister, his father…and the boy king."

"My son has come to kill you all and take your heads," Cersei spat at them. She was ignored.

The three riders came closer before finally stopping at distance where they wouldn't have to shout but was still respectful and she got her first look at the Lannisters. The Imp was just as she was told about. He looked as short enough to barely reach her shoulders and could be ugly enough to scare children. The boy carrying the banner was gangly and seemed to still be growing but he rode his horse well and his face was a mask of quiet determination.

But his face was only a mimicry of Tytos Lannister. The one eyed lion sat tall in his saddle. He wore no helmet so his eyepatch could be seen by all. His armor was plain and he carried no shield on his arm. There was a sword sheathed against the saddle and she saw an axe looped through his belt. But that was not brought her attention to him. It was his presence, that silent demand that he be looked upon with respect. His one eye did not condemn her like his aunt's had but they did watch her like his grandfather. For a brief moment, she wondered if this was what Tywin Lannister looked like in his youth.

He alone urged his horse forward to meet her, stopping a third of the way. "Queen Daenerys Targaryen?" he called out to her.

"I am she," she called back, urging her silver just a few steps ahead. "You are Tytos Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and would be Warden of the West."

"I am not as those are my father's titles." He looked back at the Imp when he said those words.

It caught her off guard but she recovered quickly. "I was told that Lord Tywin had named you his heir, not your father."

"My grandfather has always ignored the laws when he finds that they don't suit him. My father is his heir and I am his."

This wasn't what she wanted. She had to get the conversation back to where she wanted it. "Have you come in service of the false king Tommen?"

"No such person exists anymore. For all intents and purposes, King Tommen Baratheon is dead."

"You lie! I see him right there!" Cersei shrieked. She might've started running, if she hadn't been warned earlier about the dragonbone bow Aggo carried. "Tommen! Tommen, look at me!"

"Silence, Cersei," Tywin Lannister told her. His voice was measured and calm. It was the same it had been since he was taken prisoner. She did as she was told but still looked at her son.

"If you are asking after my cousin, Tommen, he sits there," Tytos continued like his aunt hadn't spoke, gesturing with his hand back at the banner-carrier. "He is my squire."

She looked at the boy. He was definitely a Lannister but she did not know what the false king would look like. "Ser Barristan," she called for her knight.

"He has grown, your Grace, but that is Tommen Baratheon," he told her.

"So you lie to my face," she accused the Lannister in front of her.

"I do not lie. The last act of King Tommen Baratheon before he relinquished his crown was to legitimize himself as Tommen Lannister," he replied, just as calmly as his grandfather. "The Westerlands kept such news to itself so we could be sure you come out of Dorne and strike." He looked over at her captives. "Where is my uncle, Ser Jaime?"

"The Kingslayer is being held in the Black Cells to await trial for his crime."

Both he and his father grimaced at those words. But it was the only reaction out of them. "I see. But in spite of that, have you enjoyed your gifts?"

"Gifts?" she repeated.

"They're standing right there." He had said those words loud enough for his aunt and grandfather to hear. She didn't look back to see their reaction, she could guess what they were: rage and indifference."

"They were in the city when I attacked it." She had felt triumphant when she took them hostage and forced them to their knees before them.

"I know. I left them here when I took Tommen to Casterly Rock just after we had news that you sailed from Meereen."

" _He left them here to be captured by me,"_ she thought to herself as she connected what he was saying. _"He had his cousin give up his crown and his presumed name when I came forth so he would be protected. He had the alliance between the lion and the rose annulled, letting me take the loyalty of the Tyrells."_ Every good fortune that had come to her when she stepped out of Dorne was beginning to look like it was his work. But how could he have known this?

When she looked out at the army behind him, she wondered why it had taken them so long to reach King's Landing. From what she had been told, taking an army from the Rock to the capital should have taken no more than a month but it had taken him twice as long. His army was not so massive that it was the reason. A thought came to her. _"What if he had been taking so long because he wanted me to consolidate my power?"_

He was her last obstacle from taking Westeros fully. The Tyrells and the Martells had bent the knee as well as the Tullys, Greyjoys, and Arryns (although those last two were forced). Stannis Baratheon died taking Winterfell, killing Roose Bolton only to be stabbed in the back by Ramsey Snow (but not before he killed the bastard too). His daughter was married to the Starks and had no wish to press her claim to the Iron Throne, only asking that her second son inherit the Stormlands and Storm's End. Only the Westerlands and the Lannisters stood in her way and she had their head and his favored children hostage.

But what if it wasn't like that? What if the reason they were here was much simpler, so simple that not one of her advisors would think of it? She took that feeling and said aloud, "You are not here to rescue your kin, are you, my lord?"

He kept his gaze on her as he shook his head. "No," he said just as loud. "We have come to bend the knee to Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name." Neither his father nor his cousin looked surprised by his proclamation. That meant what his words were planned. "But there are three conditions you must accept before I, my father, and the Westerlands kneel."

"You profess to bend the knee and yet demand conditions to your kneeling? Be careful, my lord. You walk a fine line right now," she warned him, her anger beginning to bloom.

"I think you will find these conditions acceptable for my knee, your Grace," he told her easily. "For the moment, might I go closer to your group? I would have words with Arya Stark, words I believe she needs to hear."

"…Very well," she agreed, turning her silver around so she could see her own group. She was not surprised to see the looks of outrage on her captives' faces. Tywin Lannister actually showed emotion, frowning and glaring at her. But there was something else in him. It took her a moment to realize that it was confusion.

Tytos rode his horse up to Daenerys's shadow. "Arya Stark," he said to her. "When this is all said and done, I invite you to join me back at Casterly Rock so you can meet your nephew."

"My…nephew?" she repeated, her eyes widening as she heard those words from her own lips.

"Aye, my son Eddard," he told her. "He has quite the protector in your direwolf. She barely lets any one come near him."

"Nymeria?" she said, questioning and hope hanging naked in her voice. He nodded once. "Yes…yes, I would like to go to the Rock."

"That is good to hear. I will send a raven to Sansa to let her know that you will be coming." She smiled at that, truly happy. It was something that Mother of Dragons had never seen on her.

"What are your conditions, ser?" Daenerys asked him, getting his attention once more.

He turned his attention away from her shadow and looked at her again. His expression was serious once more. "My conditions concern your captives. The first is that before you judge my uncle, you listen to what he has to say. It is something that needs to be heard."

She found nothing wrong with that condition, even if she found it to be a bit odd. "Very well," she told him.

He turned his gaze to her captives finally. "The second is that he dies, publically," he said, pointing a finger at his own grandfather. "He dies with laughter all around him and all for him. But he dies. I'm sure the Red Viper will oblige you that task." Prince Oberyn grinned and gave him a little salute with his free hand.

"I see no problem with that." Even if she found the laughter request to be just as odd as his first condition. "And what is your third condition?"

He looked at his own aunt, his one eye bright with disgust at the sight of her. "You find my aunt proper employment on the Street of Silks where everyone can see her and have her if they wish." Cersei went white at his words, possibly from horror.

Daenerys knew that the look on her knight's face meant he was shocked too. "My lord, your aunt is a lady of noble birth," he protested.

"My aunt is a whore, Ser Barristan," Tytos replied bluntly. "All I'm asking is that you make it official." He turned his head to look at Daenerys. "These are the conditions. Accept them and the Westerlands will bend the knee tomorrow. Good day to you all." He turned his horse around.

"Why?" Tywin said, finally breaking his silence as he stared at his grandson's back. "Why would you go against your own family?"

"I told you, Grandfather," he said, turning his head so they only saw the eyepatch. "Family is who you choose. Since I don't consider you or Cersei to be my family, it makes it easy to get rid of you." He did not boast the words nor was he cruel in saying them. He said them like it was a simple matter that was easily done with. His piece said, he urged his horse away from them.

Daenerys watched him go, suddenly realizing that not once he had asked to see her dragons. Perhaps he had assumed that she would have them present when she accepted their bent knees. Well, if he had assumed that, then she would oblige him. She found that the conditions were acceptable and she would take them. "Ser Barristan, Arya," she said to her knight and her shadow. "Lord Tywin dies tomorrow after I accept the Westerlands' surrender. Prince Oberyn, would do me the honor of delivering my justice to him when the time comes?"

"It would be my honor, your Grace," he said with a dangerous smile as they all turned to go back into the city.

She rested easy that, knowing that tomorrow the Seven Kingdoms would be united under the banner of House Targaryen once more. When she was able to ensure that her power was stable, she would take Drogon and Rhaegal to the Wall where their brother was and help repel what was coming. And she would do it with the armies of Westeros at her back.

 **End**

 **Author's note:** Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

I said that this was just a one-shot. But I had people who wanted more and I will admit that there were more scenes bouncing around. Eventually, it got too much so I put what I could into word, fleshing out the world a little bit. But there won't be any more after this, I promise.

I had wanted to put in a small scene at Tywin's part, a memory of his younger days. It would've been the day that he left for King's Landing and take the position of the Hand of the King. His father comes find him in his room. They have a talk and Tytos admits that he knows he is weak man and he knows what Tywin. But then he pulls his son into a hug and tells him that he is still his son and he couldn't be more proud of him. I wanted it to be like one of the few good memories Tywin had of his father but just could not find a place to put it in.

The Frey massacre happened mostly because of two reasons. The first was a way for Tytos to cement his reputation of necessary ruthlessness. The Freys had broken guest right with his grandfather's silent blessings and gotten away with it (relatively) free. That had to be corrected and it had to be paid in full. So he had them all killed. As for the second reason, he gave it to Walder Frey.

If you're wondering why Daenerys only had Tywin, Cersei, and Jaime hostage, it's not because she didn't think any other Lannisters were worth mentioning. It's because before she could reach King's Landing, Tytos had been recalling all of them back to Casterly Rock, whether by persuasion, asking for aide, or just outright ordering.

Some of you might wonder why there are no Stannis or Jon Snow segments. It's because they aren't really a focus of the story. They just need to be mentioned at the appropriate times and that's all I needed. But if you must know what they felt about him, Stannis had a small amount of respect for him and Jon felt like he could relate to him (as when they first met, it was unclear if Tytos was a Hill or a Lannister).

I'll see you all in the next story!


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